Little Glass Jar

When I was about 9 or 10, a friend of mine and I went to the auto-repair shop that my another friend's dad owned. A car with a dented door and a broken windshield was there to be fixed and we kids were there just to collect the broken glass scattered around the vehicle. Those blueish 1cm-square pieces of windshield glass looked beautiful to my eyes. I think I had a thing for glass as a kid.

This petite green jar, about 7cm tall, makes me feel a little nostalgic.

It must be for storing food.
Spice? Dried herb? Sugar cubes?
I'm thinking powdered yuzu or shichimi.

On the bottom it says "Czechoslovak".

Hit the Road

My biggest childhood ambition was to run away from home.
That might give you a wrong idea. No, my parents didn't beat me or ill-treated me. I just wanted to go somewhere, some place else where nobody knew me. You might think I was a born wayfarer, but considering how much I need and love nesting now, I don't think I was.

Having said that, I still get this impulse to go somewhere sometimes. Pack my bag, get on a train and go to a place where people speak a language I don't have a clue of. I like it to be a seaside town. (Not a village, I don't do villages.) I would get a job at a fish monger as a "scale remover", and work from 7am to 3pm. After work I would go back to my little room upstairs of a dry cleaner and fix myself a smoked mackerel baguette sandwich. (Cut the baguette about 15cm long, halve and toast them. Spread generous amount of butter and some English mustard on the bread. Place a piece of smoked mackerel, some sliced tomatoes and onions, sprinkle some sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, and squeeze a quarter of lemon over the filling. Put the other half of the baguette on it. Bon appétit.) At night, I just read a book and talk to no one. Next day would be the repetition of this perfect routine...
These days my fantasy seems to have moved up to a whole new level. I am drawn to the idea of doing Walden myself. Am I really up for it? Nahh. But maybe someday...

No one tells me to hit the road and not to come back, but someday, I might hit the road for real.

Voice

It took about a year for her
to get her voice back
She spent countless nights lying in bed
staring into darkness

If the 2009 version of her saw 2010 version of her
this is what she would have said
It's not the end of the world
Don't be a drama queen

Perhaps the old her just could not have seen
what it would be like
to feel completely empty
I am certain
she thought she knew
but she didn't

It was a frosty day
All spotless, all serene
Emerging from its whiteness
were bright red berries and deep green leaves
So vivid, so exquisite
Everything was motionless
she was motionless
The snow, the berries, the green leaves
They would melt and die away
They would be broken down by micro-organisms
Just like everything else in the world
Just like her
She is the snow, berries and leaves

It's not the end of the world, really

She got her voice back

I got my voice back

Clip Top Bag

Why do clip tops, or twist clasp, whatever you call it, attract me? I always wondered about that. And I think I know why. It's feminine.
Clip tops are strictly for chicks.

Seductive Paperback

How could a bookworm like me resist this?
I'm a sucker for many things, but I'm a whore for old Penguin paperbacks.
It was beaming at me in the literature section in the bookshelf of an Oxfam. If it weren't for the cover, I probably wouldn't have thought about reading a copy of D.H. Lawrence book. And I owe Mr Lawrence an apology for my ignorance.
Printed in 1965, a copy of a writer who was way ahead of his time

My First Ercol

Ercol has been my burning vintage desire since I read Margaret Howell's book. It's one of these things that makes me want to obtain just because of its make.
I love Ercol furniture's simplicity, distinctiveness and beauty.

Two years ago, I found this exquisite piece of furniture at a charity shop. It was love at first site.
1950's vintage square butterfly table, in a too-good-to-be-true condition; I could see the signs of aging, but what was obvious was that it had been loved and well taken care of.
I knew my place didn't have space for an extra table but I just had to make this mine.
I did, and it makes me chuffed everyday.

A Trash is a Trash

I was on a bus home a few weeks ago. The whole England (that's what they were saying) was having a "beautiful" Indian summer. "Beautiful" as long as you are not on the city bus which only has tiny pull-open windows on the entire floor to let the fresh air come in; it was a hell of a sauna. What was worse was that the bus was absolutely packed.
On the first row chatting loudly were two kids, about 18 or 19, each one occupying a two-seater seat. It sounded like one of them was talking about a computer war game. So this woman is a slut and she 's like, sleeps with anybody, everywhere she goes, the bold one goes, Uh-huh, the other one nods. It's a battle zone and she is wearing a bikini...

When a man sleeps with anybody, he is a stallion.
When a woman sleeps with every one, she is called a slut.
It's sexist. Gender discrimination. If a word like slut is being used that way, James Bond is a slut.

There are a number of words people use without thinking that are, in my opinion, politically incorrect.
Take "white trash" for example. Why do they need to add "white"? Is the term based upon the idea that white people are not often trash that it has to be defined that way?
A trash is a trash. Full stop.

Everyone Looked Strange

This song used to be my theme song when I first moved to the UK.

The Doors is great.

A Great Tune

The original by a rock n' pop genius,

and a cover by a legendary rock charisma.

Here Comes a New Year

I cannot describe how much I love January.
It feels like I am born again with consciousness.

For me, New Year is holy and sacred like the birth of Christ for Christian people.

I left 2010 behind on the New Year's Eve.
It doesn't matter how traumatically bad last year was---someday, I might be able to look at it without the faintest pain.

The New Year lets me keep my chin up, stand straight and smile.

I am happy, so happy it's January again.

Happy New Year, everyone.