Wednesday, June 24, 2015

Little boxes

Last week I bought two storage boxes, and now I feel like I can conquer the world.
Allow me to explain:
When I was in the army, I'd come home every second weekend and there would always be a surprise waiting for me. Sometimes it would be a new shirt my mom decided to buy for me, and sometimes it would be MY WHOLE ROOM ORGANISED COMPLETELY DIFFERENTLY.
As you can tell by the tone, I didn't like that sort of surprise all that much.
See, my mom likes it when things are tidy. Me? Well, I definitely appreciate tidiness, and I wouldn't call myself messy, but, well... I guess some people would.
I mean, when my stuff looks like it's in a mess to other people, but I still know where everything is, that's fine with me (like all messy people say: my mess has a system). But when it starts to bother me, that's when I know it's time to tidy things up a bit.
Enter storage boxes.
One of my mom's tidiness tendencies is putting things in nice storage boxes, which I never really understood - why would I put all of my cosmetic products in a box, and then put said box in another box with other cosmetic products? Why not just put them all on the dresser or shelf or whatever?
That was always my point of view, including when I was packing to move in with my boyfriend. Every cute little metal box I had and wanted to throw away (which is a big deal for me!), was somehow utilized by my mother: a box which once contained chocolate now contains warranty cards for all my jewelry; a cute box with cats is now the home of all my nail polishes, etc.

The problem starts when there's no room in the box to buy more...

So when we moved into our apartment, everything that I brought in a little tidy box, stayed that way. Mostly because I couldn't be bothered with changing it. Life went on, and little did I know more boxes were in my future...
(This should totally be the a cliffhanger to end part 1 of my story, shouldn't it?)
Our apartment, in case I didn't mention it, is small. Everyone who visits immediately describes it as "cute", which we all know is code for small. It also really is cute, mind you, but if there's one thing that I really don't like about this space, it's the bathroom with it's tiny rubbing-against-the-slimy-shower-curtain shower.
Now, as renters there's not a lot we can do to make the apartment really nice. We did put up some pictures with double-sided tape, and we try to keep things relatively tidy, since mess only makes a small space seem smaller.
The one place where we did a very poor job of keeping it tidy was (surprise, surprise) the bathroom. Whenever I wanted to clean it a bit, I had to move so many things from place to place, and the only thing worse than cleaning is putting things back in place when there's no clear order.
When I realized how much this was bothering me, I knew what I had to do (cue a voice softly whispering: "boxes..."). So I went to a home decor store close to my work, one of those places that sell cute knickknacks, and I bought these two bad boys:

In case you were wondering, the beard products aren't mine.

Oh, yeah... Notice the creativity in using a container made for cutlery for our hairbrushes? Notice the thoughtfulness in buying them both in different shades of white - not too matchy, and yet timeless?
Yes. This just might be my greatest achievement.

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Sparse blogging

I'm finding blogging a lot harder than I thought it would be, for several reasons, the main one being that I can't commit to anything. I start something, get super excited about it, enjoy it for a short while and then can't be bothered with it anymore. I think it's typical to Geminis, and it makes for a nice excuse, but I'm not sure how much I believe in that.
Still, it's something I have known about myself for a few years now, but I actually don't know if I was always like that or if it started recently; just like another trait I've acquired: procrastination (incidentally, also something that makes blogging difficult).
As I already mentioned, I studied my butt off in school, complete with pulling all-nighters for math exams (if you found out how much I used to love math, you would probably stop reading this blog forever). But then university came, and studying-like-mad somehow turned to this-can-wait-till tomorrow. I still pulled all-nighters, but if I'm honest those were now mostly forced (I totally blame Pinterest).
So now I just constantly put off things I planned on doing, even enjoyable things, for no apparent reason. I always find time for another episode of The Good Wife, or one more round on Kitchen Scramble (to my shame); but anything else I ignore or decide to do later, the excuse being that it's going to take too much time and now is not the right time. And in case you were wondering: "now" is never the right time.
So this makes blogging a difficult task for me, especially combined with the fact that's it's hard to find things to write about. Which is funny, because I am the world's worst over-sharer. Let's say I'm having a conversation with a person I sort of know, like a friend's friend or a coworker. They will go home afterwards knowing way too much about me, and I will go on thinking "why the hell did I tell them all those things??".
Which things, you ask? Ah, well: my worst breakups, my biggest insecurities, my grandest failures (yes, it's mostly negative with me)... The worst thing is when I talk to that person again after a considerable amount of time, and they remember and refer to the stuff I told them. Gah, the horror. Can't we just pretend that conversation never happened?..
Blogging (or blogging for me, anyway) is a lot like those conversations, because I tell you way too much about myself and later wonder if I shouldn't have. In a way it's even worse, since the internet is forever, and if you don't exactly remember what I said you can always go back and check, because it will STILL BE HERE. I am going to have to think on that...

*    *    *

Yet another post with no picture! To make it up to you, here's a photo of the cat and I sleeping, as shot by my sneaky boyfriend (because people with cats will always show you pictures of their cats. Always.):

Look at that ball of cat! And no, I did not match the nail polish to the blanket on purpose.

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Lost and found

When I was younger, things were a lot easier. Not in a nostalgic "oh, to be a kid"  sort of way, but really in a very practical way - I hardly had to make any choices. I was (and still am) a nerd, so I finished high-school with excellent grades after studying my ass off. Then I went to the army, which is mandatory here in Israel.
When that was over, and after a year of working and making some money, I started university. This was one of the first serious choices I had to make, and one that I knew would have an effect on my life - what do I want to study? Of course, I had to make other choices and decisions before that, but now they seem kind of lightweight.
I eventually opted for a BA in humanities, studying English Literature and East Asia Studies. When people asked what I was going to do afterwards, I put on a serious and exhausted face and said "Let me get through these three years first, please". But had I answered honestly, it would look more like putting a terrified face on and saying "I DON'T KNOW!! HELP ME, PLEASE!".
So the three years are very much over by now, and unfortunately my answer is the same. I still don't know what I want to do, and the longer the situation stays the same, the more I feel completely and utterly LOST. The obvious outcome is that the more I feel lost, the more it looks like a fatal and irreversible sort of thing. Like: I will never ever find out what I want to do or realize what sort of occupation makes me happy, and the rest of my life will be spent moving from one part-time job to the other, forever drifting and never fulfilling my potential.
I know it sounds like I'm exaggerating for the sake of humor, but in all honesty, sometimes I actually believe that. It was only pretty recently that I found out most people my age, or who went through a similar path to mine, are similarly clueless as to the future. Apparently, we're all just drifting around, not sure what to do or where to go. This is somewhat encouraging, but not enough for me to sit back and say "oh, well, I guess this will eventually sort itself!".
So I do what I do best - I worry. I can't even try to think about it all and make any conclusions as to what I want to do, because I'm so worried about never finding my path. It's a difficult situation for me to be in, because I hate uncertainties. I am really racking my brain trying to find a positive note to end this post, but maybe it's unnecessary. Everything is not always sunshine and rainbows, and I don't believe in masking the negative things. I do need to learn how to not take them so seriously, though, but that's for another post.

*        *        *

In other news , I owe you an update on the tales of the cat and the hellish jungle gym. So, apparently the monstrosity won't be going anywhere anytime soon, because... (drum roll)

Yes, we're watching Pitch Perfect 2. Do yourselves a favour and don't repeat our mistake.

Yup! Apparently the cat is warming up to the thing, so it will stay on in the apartment (and my nightmares). Oh, the sacrifices we make for our loved ones.

Sunday, June 7, 2015

About a cat

"Please refrain from taking my pictures."

Behold the cat on his throne! Comprised of a chair we had to put up against the wall to make room for cat stuff, and a quilt my mother made for us which we used throughout winter (and now we don't, on account of it's definitely not winter anymore).
Well, actually, this is just one of  his many thrones. Coffee table? Throne! Every centimeter on our bed? Comfy throne! On top of the toaster oven? Throne with a view!

I was not kidding.

See, when you get a cat you basically acknowledge your inferiority and relinquish sovereignty over your home. It dawned on me one morning, while emptying the cat's litter box, right after getting out of bed to feed him since he wouldn't stop nagging. While I was struggling to stay awake and digging in poop, I happened to glance to the side and see the cat napping on the sofa. That was the exact moment I realized that he was the ancient-Greek king, and we were the slaves feeding him grapes and waving a giant fan.
Okay, I know I complain, but in all honesty, we love that cat. Not only does he offer endless hours of amusement, he's also a total cuddle-cat who loves to snuggle up against you and have his belly rubbed. Besides, it's nice to have the company - my boyfriend and I don't always work the same hours (he works office hours and I do shifts at a store), so having the cat means we're never alone in the apartment.
Besides, if we didn't love him, would we get him this hideous monstrosity?


I just want to reassure you that we DID NOT pick this thing out at a store, and we definitely DID NOT pay money for it. My boyfriend just happened to find it on the street and decided the cat is going to love it (is this a thing in other places? Do people leave unwanted items in the street for other people to take?).
So far, the cat seems reluctant to this thing, which doesn't entirely upset me since every time I go to the living room and see it, a part of me dies. My boyfriend, who literally carried it on his back for about 30 minutes, will probably prefer a little more cat enthusiasm. 
Anyway, stay tuned for updates on the cat jungle-gym from hell!

Wednesday, June 3, 2015


It's been a while now that I've wanted to start a blog, but I always felt kind of inadequate: my DIY skills are nonexistent, I can't sew to save my life, and as far as cooking goes - well, that's why I live with my boyfriend, amiright? (I do cut a mean salad, though.)
So even though I really wanted to simply write about stuff that happens to me and my life in general, I felt like that's somehow not enough, despite the fact that originally that's exactly what blogs were - private journals displayed publicly.
That was true until I recently stumbled upon a blogger who basically does exactly what I want - writes about her life and herself. Granted, this comes with some pictures of beautiful dresses and snapshots of her house, but that's not the main issue of her blog. So that's when I realized that it is okay to blog that way (totally the slogan of this blog!) and I finally started this little project.
Now, truth be told, I'm still not really sure how to do it or what a first post should be like, but since it's been less than a year since I got out of university (by the way, the lack of indentation on this is killing me), I will adhere to the formula that has worked so well for three years, and begin with an introduction of sorts. Introducing myself, I mean.

This is me! At an Arctic Monkeys concert, and not just randomly and obsessively holding t-shirts of them

I am 26 and living in Tel Aviv, a city I love simply being in, but can't really compare to anything else since I've always lived here. I am (relatively) fresh out of university, and I spend my days working, reading and catching up on A LOT of TV shows with my boyfriend. We also have a cat, and I will be sure to share pictures of both the cat and the boyfriend, should they allow it.
I also plan on sharing some other pictures, but among my list of accomplishments-I-have-yet-to-accomplish is photography. So don't expect great quality or anything, and try to simply be satisfied with my creativity instead (more on my habit to downplay myself, NEXT!).
I do have to say that for me this is one of the hardest things to do. Although I am definitely a word person, I find it SO HARD to let other people read what I wrote. I mean, knowing that another person is reading what I wrote, or worse - watching them read it, seriously makes me cringe. I know it seems to conflict with my strong desire to start a blog, but - well, that's just life for you, isn't it?