Nov 27, 2015


Deadline number two is successfully behind me and it was surprisingly painless - if you don't count the lack of inspiration and the multiple obstacles thrown at me during this journey. Well, I'm sure they were put there because they were meant to happen. At least now I finally learnt that it is important to start the work early in case shit literally happens. In addition, I love when Jenni said to me that sometimes you've got to hit the bottom before coming up with something incredible. This happened to me with my investigative article that was my Everest during this term. Up until Thursday I was struggling with it, but alas, somehow the perfect angle struck me and 1600 words came out just like that. The piece isn't my favourite, but I'm quite proud that it actually made sense after eight weeks of desperation.
However, I'm not finished with this term yet. In two weeks we have to hand in a 3000 word essay and, so far, I haven't started. Well, that's a lie because I have just finished reading the first book (or the necessary chapters) in the library. Now I can go home and sleep with a good conscious. My plan was to read two books, but I am just not up for that. I hate how slow it is to read academic texts and take notes at the same time. Thank God for those extra two weeks.
As you might imagine, my fashion sense has been incredibly uninspiring lately, partly due to the deadlines. It has basically consisted of leggings and baggy knits because it is bloody cold everywhere I go. I, however, have been so proud of myself how well I handled my gluttony during this term! I didn't eat any sugar (let's not count those spoonfuls of honey straight from the jar when I just needed something) and the only thing I overate was sushi on Wednesday (and a bag of Doritos for dinner - twice). It could have been - and usually has been - a lot worse! :D
Anyway, naturally I haven't been taking that many photographs during the past few weeks. Like I said, my outfits haven't been screaming 'PHOTOGRAPHS, NOW' and it gets dark so quickly. So instead I'm going to show you how I really look when I'm at home. Au natural as the French say (I think). The older I get it gets more and more important to me just be fine with how I look - with or without makeup. So here I am: hair on a ponytail, without any products or photoshop, with a massive stress pimple on my jaw. Internet, take it or leave it.

To me beauty is...
... people who are natural - looks and character-wise.
... people who are true to themselves.
... people who don't care what others think.
... people who aren't afraid of showing or admitting their weaknesses.
... people who go after what they want.
... people who work for their dreams and don't take the path with least resistance.
... people who at least try their best in everything they do.
... people who have weird and/or quirky habits.
... people who are innovative.
... people who fight against the storm.
... people who don't give up.
i finally learnt my lessons but i learnt it by myself
'cause when the answers that you know just prove you wrong
gotta have a little faith to fall back on
and then all that you've got left is being strong
gotta have a little faith to fall back on 

Nov 18, 2015


I'm currently posting in the library. Why, you might ask. Patience, my friend. All will be revealed.

The other night I was positively surprised when I found six full movies of Miss Marple's adventures in iplayer, and you know, my 80 year-old self was naturally jumping out of joy. So there I was enjoying life and my after-night tea when I suddenly heard a call. My bladder had decided that it was now time to exit that lovely rose tea I had sipped for a half an hour. Obediently, I  got out of bed - maybe a bit faster than I should have - and my computer didn't follow like I had predicted. Instead, it hit the ground (actually, it was lying on the cold hard ground - oooooh) and, after a heart attack and a slow motion grabbing it, something I had feared happened. The whole screen was smashed, ruined, dead, however you like to put it. 

And I felt like this:

So yeah, that pretty much sums it up why I'm posting in the library. My new computer will, hopefully, arrive with Santa, but that means that someone has to be a good girl yet a month (the struggle, I tell you). You might have guessed it already, but I'm still going to, annoyingly, state the obvious: there won't be that many posts - not that I'm extremely active now, but I'm going to be even less (if possible). 

In a way this couldn't have come in a better or worse time. I'm currently in a few days away from my first deadline, have typed very little for the second one, and haven't even started for the third one in three weeks. So it's good that now I can't procrastinate watching that stupid little Marple who is the cause of all of this but I actually have to study. Then again, I don't only use my computer to watch TV, my whole school work depends on it. Now I obviously have to use the library, but, as a spoiled first world person, I'm used to writing on my own computer in my own room with my own food and pyjamas. I repeat once more: the struggle is real. 

However, I don't want to sound too depressing or give you an impression that I'm going to be eating the whole fridge to my sadness. I do have some good news - excellent, in fact. I have just received good news from my internships and I thought that it would be appropriate to share them with you. As you might know, our second term is spent interning and it has been a constant stress factor for me to get something. I literally spent a week sitting on my bed and flicking through magazines so I could write killer applications. It apparently paid off because in January I will be interning in Look magazine's fashion desk! I'm super excited because I haven't really worked in fashion yet so this will be a completely new experience. In addition, I had a job interview yesterday at WWD and I, a bit by an accident, secured my summer internship as well! I will be joining their team in July so this time, at least some of, my summer will be spent in London. But wait, THERE'S MORE. Hopefully from February to April (this has not been completely confirmed yet) I will be coming back to Finland and start interning at Cosmopolitan! Saying 'I am excited' would be an understatement. Like I said, the period hasn't been 100% confirmed yet, but all in good time. 

After these news, I looked like this...


So yeah, I guess this is life. Something shitty will happen, but then you have to keep going and open another door or take another path or send yet another application. My friend Emma said to me that I stressed for nothing, but if I hadn't, I might not have invested my time to write those applications. Right now I want to stand on a mountain and sing that song below from the top of my lungs. 

ps. Even though the song is old, I have just found it again. L-O-V-E. 

when i am down and, oh my soul, so weary
when troubles come and my heart burdened to be
then i am still and wait here in the silence
until you come and sit awhile with me 

Nov 15, 2015


On a day like this we should be grateful about the life we are living.

I walked out of the library and took everything in Oxford Street had to offer. Even if the darkness had settled for yet another night, the glistering Christmas lights were there to give us guidance. The police car went by, the people were talking loudly and the busses were making sounds. I took all those colours, voices and feelings in. I headed towards the station with a mass of people, but I ignored the pushing and annoyance that was painted on the passers-by's faces. I was happy that we were all there together, breathing, moving. I knew I should say it, even remember it, more often, but I truly am grateful for the life that I am living because it is everything I've ever dreamed of.

On a day like this we should tell the people we love how much they mean to us.

I skyped with my family today for an hour and a half. The main reason was that I just wanted to know they were safe. I sent texts to my best friends and told them that they are quite literally the best. We can never know when it is our last day walking on this Earth or when it is for your loved one. Even if you don't say it, express it. Express it every day until the last day of your life. In the end, having been able to love and been loved are the only things that matter the day we step to the other side. I just hope that all the people in my life know that I love them - until that last damn day of my life.

On a day like this we should remember that the world is still in pain.

Every day there is something happening that causes pain to us. Some we can affect, some we can't. Wars, starvation and extinction are things we can make a difference. If we put down the weapons, and as naïve as it sounds, love, we can stop hurting people. Every day people die of malnutrition. There is enough food for everyone if we just decide to share it. If you are lucky enough to be happy and healthy and have people around you who are that as well, remember that there are still people who are hurting, grieving and fighting for their lives - every single day.

On a day like this we should still try to smile.

It felt a bit wrong today to be so happy when eating a cinnamon roll in the rain. Or when I bought a books, mulled wine and gingerbreads from a Finnish/British event. Or when I remembered I had heard some good news regarding internships. Or when I talked with my family. Or when it finally stopped raining. However, we must carry on. We must find the hope, the happiness, the reason to stand strong. But we must and will not forget.

Written on 14.11.2015 in remembrance of the attacks in Paris.

I love this song, it gets to me every single time. I love how all the artists have joined together for the greater good.

there comes a time when we hear a certain call
when the world must come together as one
there are people dying and it's time to lend a hand to life, the greatest gift of all
we can't go on pretending day by day that someone, somehow will soon make a change
we are all a part of God's great big family and the truth
you know love is all we need

Nov 9, 2015


I often feel insecure about my writing skills and hesitate to call myself a writer, but I guess every time I have the urge to let out what I have inside my head, writing is the only way to do it. If I try to express myself by talking, I usually end up stuttering and nothing reasonable comes out. Now I felt the need to talk about social media because it was the hot subject of last week.

I'm sure quite a few know that an Australian blogger Essena O'Neill quitted Instagram last week (and she decided to make a big fuss about it, but let's not go there). Regardless of some people accusing her doing it only so she could gain more publicity, I do think she had some great points. Most of them were something that I had been thinking about as well. Lately I have just felt the urge to quit social media, excluding blogging, altogether. There are some very good qualities in it, but unfortunately many faults as well.

I used to use social media every hour. I was either scrolling Facebook, taking a picture to Snapchat, tweeting or checking Instagram accounts from models to friends to food to sarcastic quotes. Boring lectures and classes passed easily because I always had something to do. The first and last thing I did in the day was to scroll all those apps through and fall asleep thinking about a funny tweet from Ed Sheeran or how some of my friends were partying at God knows what club in God knows what part of the world. Like so many other in my generation, I was - maybe still am - addicted to social media.

Celebrities always say social media is such a good device to communicate with the fans. As a fan girl, I support that because I do find it intriguing to know who Taylor Swift brought on the stage with her (nowadays, I have to admit it's just annoying), when Hunter Hayes tickets are coming out, or whether there are any new interviews/performances/etc from all my favourite singers and bands. I follow many designers, fashion houses and journalists on Instagram - to the point actually that my feed often fills with images from them rather than my friends. It's very useful especially during fashion week because I can see the best looks immediately. And then there is Facebook, which is obviously great to stay in touch with, for example, my family in Texas (and to find hilarious memes).

But like I said, all this has lately felt like such a small pro to all the cons that it has. One of the first issue that I have with it is the body image ideal it represents. I know it is my own decision to follow all the models (although I really need to know about them for my career) and the fashion houses, but that has ultimately led to the fact that my feed is now full of half naked, more or less photoshopped, perfect people. However, before I was capable of living in a fantasy world where the models are not really real because their wrinkles, cellulites and baby hairs were airbrushed to oblivion, but every since the rise of the 'Instagram celebrities' that can't be done anymore. And why? Because these IG celebrities are essentially normal people like you and me, except they are not. They are gorgeous women with their long blonde hair, coy smiles, designer handbags, sipping a mojito somewhere in Mexico in their skimpy bikinis. Or they have a size four post-baby body, the cutest and happiest baby, and no dark circles under their eyes because their six-pack husbands take care of that bundle of joy during the night. By the way, he doesn't have dark circles either because his genes are awesome and he is probably a model.

I know I might exaggerate a bit, but I'm sure many of you feel the same way. When I'm laying in the bed at 1 am looking like an otter while scrolling these images, I don't feel that great about myself. Why don't any of my selfies look as good as their do? Well, apparently that requires dedication that I just don't have. According to Essena, she took nearly a hundred images, didn't eat anything and put on two filters before posting that one perfect image. To be honest though, the public still only see that one image and to us, yeah, you are still a robot because you always look impeccable even if we can tell you are sucking your stomach in. The moment somebody with thousands of followers starts posting pictures with their hair undone (and not 'un'done), in their pyjamas (that aren't VS, but the old t-shirts we know we all use) and showing a bit of their extra in their tummy area, I think we are heading towards realness.

However, it must be acknowledged that our society is a bit messed up anyway. Anna from Mungolife blog aptly pointed out that we are essentially collecting 'likes' and 'hearts', or in other words acceptance and admiration, and selfies when you are dressed up to the nines get the best numbers. I can safely say that is true in my case as well. A few weeks back when Jenni and Birta were here and we got ready to hit Cirque le Soir club, I put on more makeup than I had in years. Naturally I took a picture of us to show everyone else and apparently it hit the social media jackpot. The hearts kept dropping, both in IG and at the club (just kidding, only in IG). If you are a teenager with a low self-esteem and your target is to get as many likes as possible, why wouldn't you post pictures like that everyday? Everybody else does it, why couldn't you? Sure you can, but will it really make you feel better about yourself?

I am no one to preach about how people should live their lives, but I'm afraid life will pass us if we don't pay attention to it. When we were in Paris for a school trip in March, we were in this fancy café and there were two girls who both ordered a selection of cakes and l-i-t-e-r-a-l-l-y took pictures of them for at least 20 minutes. I am not exaggerating at all. Nowadays I get hurt if I'm meeting a friend and they keep texting/taking pictures with their phones. It's like 'Excuse me, I'm donating my precious time to you when I could be home doing uni work (read: watching Netflix) and all you do is take pictures of those damn cakes?' Yeah, that doesn't suit me. Also, although I think it is marvellous that now we constantly have a camera with us, sometimes I feel like great views or sunsets or whatever picturesque sceneries there are, aren't really appreciated by some people. They just want to take a great picture to social media and let everyone know they are at a place X and it's beautiful here, suck it losers. What about in stead you put the phone down and take in all those colours. It really does look different when through your eyes than the lens.

 Out of curiosity, I counted my selfies from the past year and noticed I had added 13 pictures with makeup, seven without and, funnily, one with makeup all over my face (I was cutting onions and ended up looking like Alice Cooper). I'm actually quite proud of those numbers because so many wouldn't dare to post one without any makeup. In fact, I haven't posted a picture in IG in over a week (usually at least one per week) nor do I scroll it anymore (which leads to the fact that when I do, I stalk my friends and like six of their photos at once). I haven't sent a Snapchat story in weeks and I'm considering deleting the app because I find it pointless. In my last Facebook status I wished happy Father's Day to my dad who now lives miles away. Turns out I may not be as caught up in the social media web as I thought I was.

However, I will keep on reducing it because I don't want to feel jealous or compare myself to a person who frankly has nothing to do with me or my life. I also want to enjoy those rare moments when I'm having tea and a chat with my mates - no pictures of coffee cups needed. In addition, I don't want anyone to feel jealous or inadequate about my life because I too get bad days, horrible in fact, when everything from my hair to my room is a mess, and life just generally sucks. Boasting about my life when it goes well is a bit ridiculous as well because, like I said, I don't want everyone to think I'm showing off or anything. I hope that my friends ask how I'm doing if they are interested and not just rely on my social media feeds. My life is my life, your life is your life and they are both fine - perfect, in fact.

From now on though, mine is just going to be a little bit less out there.

Snapshot_20151109 (24)-tile
it does feel a bit ridiculous to post these images when I usually look like...
Snapshot_20151109 (14)
Snapshot_20151109 (17)
...or this.

if you like midnight driving with the windows down
if you like going places we can't even pronounce
if you like to do whatever you've been dreaming about
baby you're perfect, baby you're perfect
so let's start right now

Nov 8, 2015


A few weeks ago I was feeling more experimental with fashion that I had in months. I decided to combine my mum's old floral dress with my hippie flowy dressy thing (I mean, what the hell is that thing called??). In the morning I was really intrigued and thought it looked good, but once the day proceeded, I came to a conclusion that it didn't work after all. Oh well, that's life. When you break the rules - in fashion and in life - things don't go like in the movies.

Today has been a kind of a fail day for me. I left to the groceries store too late so I ended up buying cheese and butter from a small shop down the street. I still can't comprehend how in a city as massive as London all the stores close at 5pm on a Sunday. Modern times, anyone? I also lazied (not a real verb, but maybe we could add this to the dictionary) my way all the way to 7pm when I started writing some more internship applications. I swear my stress levels won't go down until I've secured one.

In addition, I celebrated Father's Day here in London the best I could considering that my dad isn't here nor is it even an actual Father's Day in the UK. We skyped and I had bought a small gift and sent it away with the help of my mum when they were visiting. And to be fair, my real talent is writing so maybe all my gifts should all come in a written form from now on. Having said that, check my other blog to read about my daddy if you so desire.

It's 11 pm already and I feel like I should go to bed.... Nah, let me crank up a series or something just for fun.

p.s. there are so many bad shows in this world, it's amazing they even get the permission to be made.


revelations and heartaches will make you realize
i was always in front of you
so wake up your sleeping heart
i know sometimes we'll be afraid
but no more playing safe, my dear


Last week one of my friends complained how she doesn’t have a boyfriend and how she really wishes someone would come into her life. I joked and said that I would find her a boyfriend and become a matchmaker. Somehow she agreed and it looks like I’ve got myself a little project!
However, later I started really thinking about it more and realized that I have always been a project to my best friend, A. She has never admitted it, but I have always felt that. I have found that immensely irritating because I do not want to be a charity work or something that needs fixing. My singleness isn’t an illness that must be cured or a state that needs to be undone. I know she only has good intensions and, honestly, it’s more talk than real actions, but hearing “Tonight we’re going to find N someone!” every time we go clubbing has just really gotten to my nerves.
The worst example happened when my so-called relationship ended with the January Guy couple years ago. I remember it happened on Friday and next day I was supposed to go out and pretend everything was fine. Somehow I managed to force myself to go even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. I met with A before we headed to E’s house and talked the whole break up through. Once we arrived to E’s, A declared that this was the night we were going to find me a real man. I’m sure you can imagine how I felt. Twenty-four hours ago I had ended my relationship with a guy I’d really liked and immediately I needed to hook up with someone else? No, no, no. That was just not happening.
That night I said to my friend, for the first time ever, that I was sick and tired of being her project. I was very strict with her and said that she needed to stop because truthfully, it hurt my feelings. Like I said, I don’t want to be someone who needs to be set up with random (or not so random) guys just for the sake of it. I don’t want to be pitied nor do I want to serial date. I just want to be left alone and do my own thing. Maybe when I’m thirty, single, lonely and pathetic then I can become a project (and only if all those adjectives hold true), but for now I can handle myself and my singleness.


My father was in a ripe age of 35 when I was born. He had his career set out, a lovely wife (insert heart here) and then I came and made his rest of the life an incredible adventure (alright, a year later my sister came and maybe she had the same influence). Today my dad is celebrating his 21st year of being a father and I thought it would be appropriate if I let you know what he has taught me and if I have taught anything to him (he is probably laughing right now).
I’m going to tackle the appearance first. I will always remember the day when I was 13 and J and I were having a sleepover. Out of nowhere she starts laughing nonstop and I catch the words ‘tiny’ and ‘toes’ somewhere between the chuckles. Apparently my toes were the tiniest she had ever seen and that was hilarious on some weird level. Naturally, I hadn’t paid any attention to my toes before, but then developed a healthy obsession to looking at people’s toes just so I could compare the size of them to mine. Turns out J was right. My toes are quite pocket sized. Since I’ve always been interested in heredity and biology in general, I went to my parents and put our feet side by side. My mother’s toes were normal, but my dad’s were the same size as mine. Mystery solved.

The other thing that I’ve inherited is my non-existent earlobes and bladder. They’ve caused me some trouble, but I’ve realised they are a blessing as well. What comes to my earlobes, or the lack of them, it was really interesting when my ears were pierced and the piercing lady desperately tried to make a hole without hurting me. Now I think they are beautiful because they aren’t massive appendages. And the bladder thing…It has taken me a long time to accept the fact that I have to go to the toilet ‘just in case’ without leaving anywhere, but hey, at least my body cleanses itself and I get new experiences. Who can say that they’ve gone to toilet at Sagrada Familia, Harrods or peed in a primitive hole on the ground in Italy, and God knows how many other ones somewhere across the globe? Not many I bet.  

My dad and I are so similar in so many ways. We are both quite opinionated and loud when it comes to expressing those opinions. Often when we are dining and we start to talk about politics, religion, or something else controversial, it is my mum and sister who retreat quietly when dad and I raise the volume of our voices. I’ve also gotten my passionate side from my dad, which also relates to our shared love of a good debate. He is a diehard IFK (hockey team in Finland), Arsenal and Rolling Stones fan. He never misses a game and I’m quite sure he’s been to every Rolling Stones tour if it has been remotely possible. When I was 18 and wanted to go see Taylor Swift perform in Nashville during my finals (ended up not doing so because I came to my senses), I immediately plead my dad because I knew he would understand. And he sort of did.

When I started to study fashion, I was surprised when my dad didn’t say anything against it. His reaction was the only one’s I had been afraid of so I was relieved when he accepted it so smoothly. When it comes to fashion, I couldn’t say that I’ve learned so much from my dad. He has taught me to buy quality instead of quantity and go for the classic brands, like Ray Ban, Boss and so on. It is a good advice, but I hope that I’ve taught him that it is alright, even desirable, to buy new pieces of clothing every now and then. Clothes don’t always need to break in order to buy a new ones.

I guess all I want to say is thank you, dad. You have let my sister and I to experience so much, whether it’s all the trips we’ve done or concerts we’ve attended, and we are so rich and knowledgeable because of that.  Thank you for being so wise when it comes to politics, history and taxes and stuff – the things I just don’t understand – and going through all the questions in the voting advice application with me. Thank you for always coming to all of the dance/piano/whatelse performances because I know so many dads don’t. Thank you for teaching me initially how to write properly even though I hated that red pen at the time. I guess I wouldn’t be here in London right now if you hadn’t taken the time to do so. Happy Father’s Day, Isi.

Nov 3, 2015


Today I woke up with a headache and a sore throat so I spent the morning on the sofa wrapped up in my blanket and drinking tea. Then Mia came over and we shot her for one of my projects. I filmed her putting on shapewear and she was so fearless! I loved that she was so willing to help even though so many people would have been too ashamed to do that.

Otherwise the day has been dull. I've been drinking tea, watching Downton Abbey and replying emails. Oh, and I washed the dishes for like an hour -  happy day. Now I'm listening to old Taylor and correcting my CV so I can start sending the freaking internship applications at some point. That's the thing that's stressing me out the most so I need to get it over and done with.

Mel invited me to see Hairspray with her tomorrow and I'm so stoked about it! I love love love musicals and I haven't seen that one so I couldn't be more excited. Tomorrow's going to be good, I can just feel it.


all that i know is i don't know how to be something you miss
never thought we'd have a last kiss
never imagined we'd end like this
your name forever the name on my lips

Nov 1, 2015


Happiness is sometimes challenging. There are days when positive thoughts seem to be hiding in caves and bushes, unwilling to come forward when begged. Those days are spent laying in bed in a dark room, the slight light illuminating from the computer screen. The only voices audible are the thoughts echoing in your head and sometimes they are muffled by the faint sounds of reruns of Sex and the City. Loneliness surrounds you, laziness takes over and another day is wasted. You hope for a change, but instead you walk to the cupboard to fetch peanut butter. You swear tomorrow will be another day, a better day, but when it comes, it’s not just Carrie who keeps going back to square one in her life.
I have just described how my life has been more or less a year now. Starting university was exciting at first, but soon the newness faded and instead of being locked up in a library like I had predicted, I found myself locked up in my flat with way too much time in my hands. The fashionable student life didn’t really turn out how I had expected it to because I hadn’t been prepared for the never ending money ending problems. Living in a city as fabulous and, unfortunately, expensive as London, it became clear that I couldn’t keep up my previous lifestyle. I did what every responsible wannabe adult would have done: I adapted to my new role. I became a fulltime student with a kitchen filled with bean cans and a bad conscious whenever I chose to leave them home and go out to have dinner with my friends.

As the weeks and then months went by, I noticed myself spending more and more time in my bed. To be fair, my first flat was a 12 square meter student flat so basically the only thing I had in there was a single sized bed. It kept luring me to spend more time with it like a first love. I forgot everything else because I was blinded by its comfort and ability to take away the stress I had. But like a bad boyfriend, it abused me and generated even more stress, but I was unwilling to acknowledge the problem and break free.

It wasn’t until this week when I realised things had to change. Having always been busy with extra-curricular activities and different hobbies, I found my new situation dull and uneventful. There was nothing permanent to expect every week and occasional parties didn’t do the trick. So after a considerable amount of time spent on this issue, I decided to start dance lessons. Apparently a higher power approved because I found a three months course and even got it half prised. The saying about early birds may be true in most cases, but for once my I’m-forever-and-always-late nature paid off (no pun intended).

You know that crap you read in health magazines that preach how exercise is a key to a happy body and soul? I think they might actually be onto something there. It was remarkable how my body visibly relaxed when I heard the first beats of the music. When Missy Elliot rapped about turning things up, I, for once, turned my thoughts off  about the looming deadlines and the pile of clothes on my bedroom floor waiting to be put back in the closet. My brain was silent for once and for an hour and 15 minutes it was just me and the music.

When I left the studio, I felt content, energised and didn’t regret a tiny bit the extra expenses I had caused myself. On the bus back home, I started thinking what are some of the things that make me happy. Dancing was one of them, obviously. Sunny days spent in the park, any kind of birds – even the pigeons, new pairs of high heels, excellent columnists, buying magazines, inspirational pictures, ice cream, friends, laughter, all things Texan, musicals, trips to basically anywhere, fashion, deep conversations, Eddie Redmayne movies, perfectly fitting sport leggings and the sound of the keyboard when I’m typing are other things that came to my head in a matter of minutes. I was surprised by it and I wondered if there are so many things that – supposedly – make me happy, why wasn’t I perky all the time?

‘Happiness can be found in the smallest of things’ is one of the mottos I try to live by. Sometimes it just isn't possible to go to the park or book a plane ticket to Texas so then I have to try find it somewhere else. Whether it’s the gorgeous orange and yellow leaves falling down from the trees on my home street, the fact that after piling those clothes back to the closet I remember I actually have a floor, or the smell of freshly baked cookies lingering from the oven, it’s important to savour those everyday moments of happiness. Also, it’s always good to remember that every cloud has a silver lining. So what if I ate five cookies – at least my boobs will look bigger tomorrow. Who cares if I extravagantly spent money on makeup just so I could keep on practicing creating the perfect base – I won’t even remember it the day when an interviewee asks tips on how to do hers (like that would ever happen). It is a lifestyle I am still learning, but you know what they say: practice makes you perfect.

Isn’t it also a truth universally acknowledged that all good things occur when least expected? I believe happiness is one of them. It may be an envelope full of motivational quotes sent by your mother that drops down the letterbox on a gloomy Friday or a text you receive from your friend on a Sunday telling you she has set you up with someone. When B and J were in London, B would randomly yell ‘Happiness moment!’ on the escalators, at a bar in Soho and in my room while watching old music videos. We would always laugh, but in fact, she’s got it right: it may just be a trifle of joy or a wheelbarrow full of it, but at least it is there. At the end of the day happiness is all we’ve got and we need to look after it the best we can. Now, where did I put those cookies...


Today I'm talking about happiness in my other blog and I thought about opening up a bit here as well.

I've always been happy who, like every single person, every now and then gets sad but who always shakes it off and carries on. Lately though I haven't necessarily felt sad, but more like very unenergetic and unmotivated. It has come to a point when I'm laying days in my bed watching a series and doing very little school work. I've grown used to it and excuse myself with the help of my friends who keep on encouraging me to relax because I have such a 'busy' life. How wrong can they be.

Of course business is subjective. For someone one social encountering a week is being busy and spending time at home is important. I, however, am not like that. I consider myself being busy when I have an essay to write, meeting with a friend in a café in half an hour, a party to attend at nine and, on top of that, school or work the next day. I just pretty much described my summer to you, haha. So when my Instagram fills with pictures of a dinner or a party once a week, some people think I'm being incredibly productive. Sure, that requires moving from my bed and more often that has become a struggle itself, which I have found alarming.

I am a lazy person, but school work is always something that I've done well and (quite) happily. This term I've been setting myself schedules and shamelessly extended them just because I didn't want to start doing them. Peanut butter and another episode of Carrie Diaries were too tempting. And if you have seen Carrie Diaries, you know that that show is not tempting - I think torture is more accurate word. So recently I have started to think why this is happening because, like I said, this is not a natural state for me.

Practically all my life I have been in school from eight to three/four and then I've hurried home to go to my tennis/dance/gymnastic/piano/music theory lessons and from there I've again hurried back home to meet my pile of homework that grew and grew over the years. It was overwhelming at times and I didn't sleep more than six hours at night, but at least I had a rhytm, a routine. Now I go to school three times a week, and two of them are like three hours, sit in the tube an hour back and forth and then if I'm up for it, I go running that has really never been my favourite past time. That's it. On weekends I might meet friends if we have the money and they have the time because they are working. I am not complaining that I don't have a job nor do I want one at the moment, but I've noticed that my life hasn't had any substance besides school. And to be honest, the assignments we have get quite boring when we have eight weeks to finish five written pieces and a video. I'm not saying that I would change that because being a journalist is completely different than doing exercises in my math book, but this is just something that I've noticed.

I think this is the biggest reason why I've fallen to a television coma. Someone might suggest that go to an exhibition etc and that is a valid suggestion, but they usually cost at least something so I can't do that everyday. Plus, when you are in this comatic stage, nothing really interest you. Also, I'm always supposed to do something for school, but then in the evening I notice that the day has passed and I've done very minimal stuff. So what would be the right thing to correct this?

The answer came to me on Tuesday and it was quite embarrassing how obvious it was. I need to start a hobby, something else besides running. The problem with running is that even though I have grown to like it - occasionally, there is no set time when I have to go there. Even if I tell myself I will go at three, that doesn't mean it will happen. However, if I have a dance lesson that I've paid in advance, hell yeah I'm going. So this super long story reaches it point telling you that I booked myself three month's worth of street dance lessons and I started last Thursday.

It was so interesting to notice how I visibly changed when I was dancing. I was popping and locking and moving and twirling and jumping and just doing ridiculous moves - and smiling a genuine smile. After the lesson I felt so good and I got a whole new amount of energy in my body. It was quite a relieve to be honest because I had really started to get worried. Yesterday I spent five hours in the library and finished my catwalk report from start to finish, blogged and in the evening I exercised and went to celebrate Wendy's birthday. It was a good day and I have a feeling it will be a great next week.


you can blame it on the gravity the reason that i'm falling
but the truth is i would jump and girl you're everything i've wanted
it's a revelation, yeah kind of elevation
learning to fly