My first Thanksgiving experience

When I first arrived to these new city back in December, determined to make friends in my Masters class, I never thought I’d end up celebrating Thanksgiving, for a number of reasons.

First of all, I didn’t think there would be any Americans in my class. In fact, there are three. Which is great (foreign people, come at me!). Secondly, I wasn’t that sure we’d be friends (my experience had taught me otherwise). And last but not least, I never really saw the point of this certain celebration. I thought it was just another normal day that people chose to stuff themselves with home-made cooking. How wrong was I.

Turns out that the actual ‘I’m grateful for this and that’ part is waaaay more important than the turkey. Even the cooking process is more important than that. We got to our friend’s house and started cooking, all together. I went to the living with one of the girls to prepare the table, and one of the Americans came to us, all happy and emotional, to say “this means a lot to us, it’s so beautiful to see us all in the kitchen, talking and cooking all together”, which really touched me.

After the turkey was (finally) place on the table, next to the rest of food we’d prepared, they three told us it was time to gather around and say why we were grateful for. At first, none of us wanted to do it (expressing our feelings to people we’ve known for two months? Yeah, sure). But they told us that was the tradition, so we actually HAD to do it. And we did.

Never judge a book by its cover, they say. Thanksgiving seems to be all about the food, the drinking, the stuffing, the turkey. But really, it’s all about friends, family, friends that become family in your home away from home. Last Thursday I was grateful for a lot of things. Today, I’m grateful for friends who keep showing me things are never what they seem.

There’s always a moments pause after the bread is broken, the meal is shared, and the toasts are given that lends itself to looking around a house full of family and reflecting.

Cultivating gratitude is a wquick and delicious way to change your life. I’m so thankful for my loved ones, who make this existence an adventure, my opportunities to pursue my passions and live life fully, for all the hard times that taught me how to truly feel joy, and for every time people have surprised me with their incredible goodness.

There is so much magic here…

Sophia Bush

blr community

I’m sure many of you have heard of Tumblr before. If you haven’t, you’re probably not on your teenage years/twenties. Long story short, it is another type of social media. You can post, like and reblog pretty much everything.

I’ve always used my Tumblr account just to reblog pictures and share the music I listen to, so I was quite surprised when, at the beginning of this academic year, I stumbled upon an entry from a studyblr.  ‘What the hell do they share?’, I wondered. When I clicked on the profile (sorry, can’t remember who it was!), I was expecting to find lots and lots of pictures of books, notes and pens. And yes, I did find that. But I found even more.

I found lots of advice on how to study better, and a huge (and I mean, HUGE) amount of positive messages, thoughts, quotes and sticky notes. I found out that I wasn’t the only one making lists every day so I don’t forget what I have to do (whether it’s school related or not). I discovered a Chrome extension called Momentum, which is like the best thing ever. You can write your to-do list and cross whatever you’ve already done (and it’ll congratulate you if you’ve completed the list!),and it even shows you an inspiring quote each day. I also found lots of pictures of tea and coffee (what can I say, I’m a sucker for a little bit of caffeine!).

Sure, all those pictures look pretty, neat, clean, and nothing like my desk when I’m studying. And that made me wonder, ‘how do they do that?’. And I immediately answered myself. They just look pretty for the picture. After that, everything is a mess. Lots of papers and books on the desk. Unorganized colourful pens, stress and negative thoughts fill the room. But nobody wants to see that, and nobody should. It’s all about the results. You get ready, you clean your room, drink your tea, eat your toast, and you get to your work. No matter how messy it gets, the important thing is to complete at least half of the tasks you set yourself when you woke up. Because that is all the studyblr community is about. So guys, please keep taking pictures of your tidy rooms so the rest of us keep feeling inspired by them.

 

this is what my Momentum looked like after I completed my to-do list today 🙂

I see humans, but not humanity

Today I wake up with all social media full of images of the Eiffer Tower, texts wishing all the best to Paris, thoughts and prayers being said all around the world. How could it not, though. What happened is horrendous, and as we say in Spanish when something awful happens, “it doesn’t even have a name.”

But of course it does. It has lots of names. Terrorism. Hate. And most of all, disrespect. Disrespect for your own life. Disrespect towards other people’s lives. Why on Earth would a person want to kill another one. That is something I’ll never get my head around.

However, it isn’t the first time this happens, and I’m not talking about Charlie Hebdo. I’m talking here about the hundreds, thousands of people who suffer from this kind of pain everyday. People who don’t live in the “first world”. People raising their children at war, people fleeing from their countries, from home. And most of the time we don’t even care. We should think about this. We are all people, we all do deserve a life. A good one. A long one.

The Guardian is updating live on the attacks. El País is doing so for Spanish speakers.

May this be over soon.

A weekend away…

… keeps the doctor away?

If it were for the amount of food I ate in 3 days, it certainly wouldn’t.

Cheap and good, what else could you ask for?

I won’t ramble on how good that breakfast in the picture was (and so were the rest of the meals I had), you would need to be there. Maybe it was because it was already 11 a.m. and I hadn’t eaten anything since the previous night, but whatever. That 35 minute walk was well worth it.

However, if it were for the amount of laughs you can have during a weekend away, I’m pretty sure THAT can keep the doctor away. They say laughing is good for our health, right? Well, I say, so is travelling.

I’ve always been one of those people who are always thinking about their next destination. Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than comfortable to stay in my comfort zone, inside my bubble; but then again, I love it out there too! I’ve always been passionate about other cultures, languages, countries, people… I guess that especific interest is what made me study Translation, but let’s not talk about that or this entry will take paragraphs and paragraphs. I have a friend who thinks I’m a nomad (I think I had already metioned it), and I’m alright with that. Travelling gives me some kind of energy that nothing else gives me. Have you heard of those energy drinks and those detox juices? I have never tried neither of them, but I guess travelling is my energy drink (or my detox juice, if you’re one of those).

Now, put your friends and a place you’ve always wanted to visit in the same box. Mix it up a little and get on the next plane, train, bus, car (or maybe even a camel!) and just get the hell out of your bubble. Live a new, different life even just for a couple of days. I’m telling you, it’s worth it. You’ll come back home full of energy and you’ll feel like you’re capable of anything. You’ll come back with new ideas for that essay that was killing you the previous week; you’ll come back wanting to find and try new places in your town/city; you’ll come back wanting more than what you had before you went on that little holiday. More than what you were. Some trips change you for a couple of weeks, some mark you for a bunch of months, or even years. But what I’ve discovered is that the simple act of travelling changes you for life.

It’s like a can of energy drink that never empties.

Summing up my second year abroad

Hi! I’m back! I know it’s been a while but I’ve been a busy bee over the summer holidays. I’ve just stumbled upon this draft I wrote back in June and thought I’d share it with whoever is bored enough to be reading this blog (thanks though, pal!)

I should start packing; instead, here I am writing this. This year has been completely different from the first time I lived abroad. I am a bit older (and I’d like to think that also a bit wiser) and so are the people who shared this experience with me. I have met less people, and I certainly don’t know if the few good friends I’ve made will still be friends with me in the long run. But I guess you don’t even know that when it comes to friends you’ve had for years. I have also drunk way more cocktails and beer than I’ve done in my entire life, and I’m okay with it (actually the beer part wasn’t that hard to top, taking into account I didn’t like beer until I had no other option if I wanted to save some money).

I have grown. It took me years to finally realise I had to put some distance between myself and a certain person. It was never easy because we had been good friends for years, but the end of 2014 was some kind of revelation to me.  I decided I was going to finally be happy(ier) from 2015 on. And I’ve accomplished my goal, somehow. I’ve said “yes” to most of the plans I’ve been proposed. I had the time of my life travelling with three of my best friends over the weekend. And I even practised sport. My 18 year old self wouldn’t believe it. And the best of it all, I’m doing everything for myself, because I want to.

If during my first year abroad I learnt that distance really means “nothing” if you try to make your relationships and friendships work, this year has proved that I can be happier if I have a more positive attitude towards life.

I have also learnt that if there’s only one step from love to hate, it only takes a couple of months to walk from hate to love. My 11 year old students are the best example. As rebellious, loud and careless they were at the beginning of the year (and all the way until its very end, let’s be honest here), they turned out to be the most loveable class I’ve had. And I’m not only saying that because I may or may not have had a couple of secret admirers among them. Not at all.

The beginning of this experience was certainly one of the hardest times I’ve had in my entire life, and some things didn’t go quite as I had imagined. But you know what? It’s okay. And if it’s not, it will. I’ve had a lot of time for myself that I invested not only in watching tv shows. I’ve thought a lot about everything, about everyone.

If I had to sum up my second year abroad in just one sentence, I’d say that thanks to this experience I’m finally on the right way to getting to know myself. And that’s a big step for my life. It’s a start, at least.

Why spending time alone is good for yourself

I must admit, you caugh me here. I do not have an answer for this question other than “I like to spend time on my own from time to time.” I like to go for a coffee, alone, and spend there hours reading, or writing, or just watching the people pass by. I know for a fact that some people don’t understand how that is possible.

A couple of years ago I was talking to a one of my best friends from uni who had recently been through a break up. We were going to move in together with another two friends in two months, and she told me she was kind of scared. She was scared because she was now “alone”. She didn’t have someone she’d go out with every afternoon, just to go for a walk. And she said: “I know you don’t mind being alone, but I do. I hate being alone.”

And now I say, at the end of the year she also found herself with her books and her computer at a café, on her own. I’d join her after my classes, or she’d join me after hers. The thing is, I do not mind going with you people, but the fact that today you don’t feel like going out for breakfast isn’t going to stop me from going.

It is good to do things on your own. You find your inner self, your deepest thoughts, when you’re alone. No matter if you’re in your bed, or at your favourite café, or bookshop. Just, for a few hours a week, give yourself a break. Go grab a book or your iPod and be alone for a while.

Then, call your friends and join them for a drink at the pub on a Friday night.

Why we fall in love with our teachers

We’ve all had that one teacher. All of us. The first time my friend fell in love with a teacher we were 12 or 13 years old. Don’t get me wrong, I liked him too, the man was beautiful (inside and out), and I really liked his classes. I just didn’t see what all the fuss was about. I couldn’t understand why they liked a teacher that much. When I was 15 years old, I met a French teacher, the first I fell in love with. I would rather miss any other class than his. There I was, front row, always with my friend by my side, and there we stood twice a week for the following three years. The second time I developed feelings for a teacher was the year before uni. The friend I’ve spoken about already fell in love (deeply in love) with the man who was giving her driving lessons. Another friend was completely in love with one of the doctors during her seminars in the hospital. So, again, don’t deny it, we’ve all had that one teacher.

Why? Is it because they have some kind of power over us? Because I’m telling you, my crushes weren’t even that attractive. They were good people, good teachers, they had a family, and they truly cared for their students. My love for them was not the “he’s perfect in every way” kind of love. In fact, they weren’t. They aren’t (yes, I’m still in touch with them). I know I could tell them everything (school related, guys, DON’T PANIC!). I argued with them, we exchanged opinions, our points of view were opposites most of the time. But they were honest, and they were wise.

In a moment of our lives when all the guys around us were busy being jerks or immature (or both, unless you were one of the lucky ones whose high school sweetheart is still that, a sweetheart), those teachers were heroes. Whether it was because they were handsome, or smart, or because they liked the same books you did, or because they made you see the world through another glass. They were everything we wanted our male classmates and friends to be. They were the ones who made us love a subject we used to hate. Or the ones who convinced us that taking German at uni was better than taking French (shouldn’t have listened in this particular case, though).

You don’t fall in love with your teacher because they are the teacher, or because you want to be their class pet and get better marks. You don’t choose to like them that much, it just sort of happens. There are a few times in life when you click with someone else, someone who encourages you to be the best version of yourself, someone who believes in you as much (sometimes even more) than your own mum. Someone who pushes and pressures you because they know you can take it. There was actually nothing sexual about my crushes (not the ones who were my teachers, at least), I just found a friend. A friend who was older and didn’t treat me like a kid. It had nothing to do with their looks.

We fall in love with our teachers because they are good teachers, and because they actually try their best to understand each one of their students (even the “cool kids/bad students” in my class grew fond of him by the end of the year). Those teachers will be the ones we will remember. The ones who made a difference in our lives. And that’s why we fall in love with our teachers.

I guess it comes with the job.

Why we get hooked up on TV series

There are two kinds of people in this world, and I’m not talking about typical divisions such as women vs. men or Manchester United vs. Liverpool. I’m talking about TV series vs. movies/films. I must say I am a bit of both; I enjoy them everywhere, on TV, on my computer, at the cinema… I guess I’m a sucker for some fictitious life of any kind. However, I must admit that I’d probably choose to get hooked up on a series and waste hours and hours of my life on it rather than sit still and watch a film for 2 or 3 hours. Now, I know that may not make sense for some of you, so that’s why I’ll try to explain the reasons why people like me exist and make that choice.

Firstly, movies end TOO fast. Whether it’s an action film or a rom-com, WE WANT MORE. We want to see if the happy couple did have children after their fairytale wedding. We want proof that the bad guy is actually dead (or in prison for life) or if it’s just a trick to come back with a sequel a few years later (let’s be honest, that’s bound to happen most of the times).

Now, some series may be lasting more than enough, I’ll agree with you on that (Shonda, you’re killing way too many characters), but it’s okay. In my year abroad I’ve watched at least 3 complete series, plus the ones I was following on a weekly basis (a list that includes at least one per day), and I don’t seem to ever get enough.

Secondly, most of the time I get more emotionally attached to the characters on the series than to real people. I wanted more from Dr Hart and Wade Kinsella (at least the name of their baby, guys!); I cried on the last episode of One Tree Hill (even though I have to be honest here and say I expected something else, and well, something more); I stopped watching Grey’s Anatomy the minute Dr Sloan and Lexie’s break up was definitive; I had to replay the Red Wedding at least three times in a row because I just couldn’t (didn’t want to) believe what was happening; and I certainly didn’t understand how no one was mad at Dan Humphrey on Gossip Girl (hello??).

Let’s face it, nothing will compare to Brooke’s wedding day.

Don’t get me wrong, I do have a life away from my computer screen and my lists of series (‘on-going’, ‘finished’, ‘to watch’,…). I do have a family I spend time with, friends I like to hang out with, places I travel to, things and work to do… but TV series are a great getaway.

We get hooked up on them because having a parallel reality is great to escape from our own from time to time. And they can also show you your own reality. The same way a song can make you cry or make you remember a moment that’s long gone, TV series, as well as movies, have this power too. The difference between them too is that movies, and we go back to my first argument, end very soon. They always (let’s face, almost everytime) have a happy ending. No one wants to spend their money going to the cinema to watch the hero die in 10 minutes or the girl end up with the bad guy who’s been lying to her for the last two hours. No one. Meanwhile, the girl in the TV series may also have her happy ending on the final season, but God knows when that will be (looking at you again, Shonda).

Series, as real life, are full of drama and complicated stories. Now I’m not saying you should get all Olivia Pope and try to find every dirty little secret of the guy who broke your best friend’s heart and let them all out for the world to know. I’m not telling you to become some sort of Arya Stark and change your name and the way you dress because some weird shoulder-lenght-haired guy says so. I’m telling you to enjoy that drama. Enjoy their drama, because you won’t be enjoying yours as much. You may even find some answers, or look at things from a different perspective.

I guess that’s why we like series. We just want to live a non-existent reality with the intensity we (should) live ours. We get hooked up because most of the problems in it aren’t solved in 2 hours 47 minutes. And that’s okay, because in real life, some of them won’t even get solved.

I gotta go now, I’m about to start season 4 of Scandal.