Imitation is the ultimate flattery, they say. In an attempt to imitate my brother’s approach to the things he loves, I decided to start embracing my guilty pleasures.In case you haven’t read my previous post on all the things I’ve learned from my somewhat younger but somehow wiser brother D, he is the kind of person that has the admirable quality of being shamelessly affectionate towards certain things (or people) without caring about other people’s opinions. So that’s what I aspire to do, embrace my guilty pleasures and share them openly; shifting them to the category ‘Things I Wholeheartedly Love (and That Make My Eyes Sparkle with Joy When I Talk About Them).
When I say guilty pleasures, I refer mainly to cultural artefacts of questionable quality. In a world where the world cool will one day become acceptable even for resumes and LinkedIn profiles, one has to watch/read/visit/listen/be informed about the right things so as to classify as cool. And this is, more or less, how the idea of guilty pleasures began. The term sums up all the things we enjoy but only in private so as not to be judged for our tastes.
Goals, unlike resolutions, have a finite end. It is ‘I will run a marathon’ vs. ‘I will exercise more often’; ‘I will save enough to take a trip to New Zealand’ vs. ‘I will be more careful with my spending’; ‘I’ll graduate with distinctions’ vs. ‘I will study every day and not only the week before the exams’.
One of my 2016 goals was to read 40 books in a year.
To adopt a resolution you have to decide what you want from life.
Well, in 2017, I wish to be … happy.
Happier, to be precise.
Resolutions. Some make them, some avoid making them, many get over-optimistic about them, few end up keeping them.
I’m a resolutions person. At the beginning of each year, I enjoy imagining that this year, this specific year will be different. Don’t get me wrong, they always are. Just not in the ways that we expect them to be. Continue Reading
Living in London presents one with an abundance of opportunities. Here are this week’s suggestions so that you know where to begin.
When I told my family and friends that I was going on a trip on my own, a short pause of silence always followed my statement. They would look at me with a mixture of suspicion and alarm. ‘Like, completely on your own?’, they would ask.
To put this in context (as translators and linguists often feel the need to do), I come from a culture where mundane instances of everyday life are often turned into opportunities for socialising and doing things on your own is usually looked down at as some sign that your social life (or mental health) is suffering. Didn’t I have a friend that would like to go with me? If I couldn’t find company why was I going in the first place?
Truth is sometimes the stars (along with friends’ schedules and budgets) do not align and one is faced with the following life-or-death question: How badly did you want to visit Copenhagen?
Author: Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan
Sporty, carefree American college exchange Rebecca, aka Bex, lands in Oxford, UK, living across the hall from the royal heir, aka Nick. Even though they start out as pals, they cannot help falling in love with each other (surprise, surprise) whilst bonding over trashy TV and Twinkies, but decide to keep their romance a secret from the royal family and the hungry – almost carnivore – public eye. Continue Reading
With this post I would like to introduce a new ‘column’ in this blog!
Every now and then I come across an article that resonates with me or prompts me to think but is written in Greek. So I decided to do what I do best,
thinking about food translating in order to make it accessible to more, non-Greek speaking people, channeling one of my initial motivations for creating this blog about 1,000,000 years ago:
Sharing all the good stuff I discover with others. Because sharing is caring. (And there’s always more to talk about afterwards.)
This translated abstract originates from the Greek Cosmopolitan’s column Sex and The Single Girl, which was originally penned by Alexandra K. and published in the September 2016 issue.
Despite an ongoing, torrid love affair with Manchester and flirting with the idea of moving to either Berlin, Brussels or Barcelona (the alliteration is purely coincidental), Athens has always been and will continue to be my one and only true love.
What should one do on a sunny Sunday afternoon in Manchester? When you’ve almost completed a PhD on the independent coffee shops and brunch spots of the Northern Quarter you know it’s time for a change of scenery.
My fabulous French Instagram wife C. had already suggested about a million times that she shows me around Chorlton, a neat suburban area of Manchester which she adores, so that’s where we went.