Monthly Archives: July 2016

License to chill

As you might have seen on Instagram, I just came back from some sort of road trip to Italy with the boy. He drove me to lake Garda where we stayed in the tiny town of Gargnano and visited Salò, before we spent a night in Milano and then drove back home to Switzerland. Over a thousand kilometers which I didn’t spend at the wheel, not once.

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Why? It’s simple – I don’t have a license. Shocker.

I am turning 26 next Monday and I still don’t have a driver’s license. A thing that seems to amaze literally everybody I meet.

It’s totally ok, I get why a lot of people would find it weird. I mean… everybody has one, right? I get it. Literally every idiot on earth seems to have a license.

What I don’t get is the reactions I get when I explain why I don’t have a license.

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It’s not like I’m too lazy, it’s just that I don’t feel comfortable with speed. I had five lessons when I was 18 years old and, unlike all of my other friends, I hated every single one of them. I reached my level of anxiousness at 80 km/h. I was scared. I didn’t enjoy it at all. It exhausted me to concentrate on everything around me while I was trying not to freak out over the speed I was driving at. I also don’t exactly enjoy being a passenger on a car.

Also, I feel like I wouldn’t be able to react the right way in dangerous situations. I think I’d squeak and let go of the steering wheel, which probably isn’t exactly the best reaction, I think we can agree on that. Sometimes I scream when a fly ‘surprises’ me, not because I’m scared of the fly but because I’m just that jumpy – so, you know, it is something to consider. For my own safety and yours alike, for that matter.

Again, I do understand why people often try to convince me to give it another try and try to explain to me why I might be happy to have a license in one or another situation. I get it. I am currently thinking about giving it another try, even though I am terrified – just in order to have double checked my fear.

What I don’t get is how everybody is so f*cking sure of themselves, no questions asked.

Yes, self-doubt sucks and self-confidence is king, but when I look around me, be it my friends or just random drivers on the road, I really do feel like licenses are just given to anybody who wants one, as long as they are not completely blind.

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I have friends who have gotten into several accidents since they got their license, friends who get speeding tickets all of the time – not because they love to drive fast, but because they claim to not be able to drive within a given limit – and friends who nobody wants to drive with, because their driving style is just so unconfident. And they still consider themselves great drivers. Is that really the way it’s supposed to be?

It’s not seldom that I hear about accidents by 80-year-old people. 80 f*cking years old. Those people should be sitting at home already, take walks and sh*t – not drive a car. I mean it. I have a neighbor who walks bent over and walks and talks in slo-mo  – we call her anabiotic – and the other day she told me how she drives more than an hour to see her age-old mother… of course, why not – I wouldn’t entrust her with an ordinary glass, why should I have my doubts when it comes to steer a powerful vehicle. Because everybody can drive, that’s what they tell me.

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And don’t get me started about people who drink and drive or speed, not only endangering themselves but everybody else around them.

So… I don’t know. If only few among us are able to be honest to themselves, maybe we should start being actively honest to those around us. If you drive with somebody who clearly isn’t as good as he or she thinks, maybe you should tell them, no matter the consequences. And tell them their singing sucks too, if you’re already at it.

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Anybody else here without a license? Let me know why 😉

Only because you’re convinced that you can sing, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt our ears, trust me.

Anna

 

P.s.: You probably won’t be offended, but if you’ll like to let me know that I’m still weird for not driving – that’s ok, happy to hear that, too. Also, be sure to swing by Facebook! xoxo

 

 

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DIY: clown jacket

I fail at basic. Always have, always will. It’s not for me – at least when it comes to clothes.

I’ve been looking for THE perfect denim jacket since forever and wasn’t able to find it. They always seem to have a tacky washing, a weird-ass cut or a ridiculous price tag. A little bit like women, when you think of it.

At some point I did what I always do when I kind of want something but don’t want it enough: I went to H&M, my personal place of horror. I know I’m a b*tch but shopping there really costs me quite some effort because it’s such a mess most of the time. Obviously I’m not blessed with Fendi-money either – otherwise I wouldn’t even consider DIY – but rummaging through poor-quality clothes together with a bunch of sweaty basics….eww, not a fav activity of mine. But you know, sometimes a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do – even if she knows that her heart’s not gonna be in it for a long while.

Exactly what happened. I found a jacket that was just tiny enough to not make me look like a bulky gnome, didn’t come in a disgusting washing and cost about… 15CHF I think. Don’t these prices make you feel uncomfortable? I mean, I have Jewish blood but even I can’t help but think if that can really be fair for every party involved…

Anyway, what I wanted to say is that I ended up buying it and treating it like a stepchild ever since. I was ok with it, I took it out for walks sometimes, but it was never my baby and I never loved it, which is a very unsatisfying feeling, let me tell you. I hate wearing things just for the sole purpose of keeping warm or dressed.

Blablablabla…

Which is why I decided to give it a makeover. A simple one which I could do manually, since I haven’t bought a sewing machine yet. Something colorful but not too flashy, just on the verge of tacky. Something fun.

If you know my header, you know that I think that pink, orange, green and yellow are a perfect match. Together with gold – super fun.

So I bought two meters of all colors, just to be safe, and four meters of the gold ribbon and just sew them on where I thought fitting. I also thought about adding pom poms but the boy was in horror and told me that my jacket looked like a clown jacket already. I also thought about stars or tacky decorative stones… but you know, sometimes I do listen to his advice.

So let me present to you, my new fun jacket. I think I like it. It’s not like it’s super special but it’s colorful and personalized, so it’s definitely more me than before. Also it’s an easy DIY idea which you can do while watching TV. I might add more at some point.

And now it’s your turn – go ahead and spice that basic jacket you have up. Even if you find this particular version fugly, there are many more options, you just have to see what works for you. And send me a picture if you do so!!

Clothes shouldn’t just keep you warm, trust me.

Anna

 

P.s.: If this post offended you, please consult my disclaimer. If you’d like to be up to date with upcoming DIYs, following on Facebook is a good way not to miss out, just saying….

 

If you’d like to receive a free DIY @girlcasm bracelet, please feel free to contact me.

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Don’t buy the shallow

If you have been reading my bla for a while now, you know that I try to be as little fake as possible – sometimes I give you TMI, I’m well aware of that, and most of the time I am talking about totally irrelevant stuff, just because. I am also trying to find a way of posting pictures that are not too staged but still a half-decent bait for my actual baby, that is @girlcasm, clearly not following my own ten commandments of #instafame. I guess I still haven’t found the right spot but it will not be too far away from where I am now – on the blog, that is.

Because the thing is: I’m super bored and I’m super annoyed by what is going on in this super special blogger world out there. We’re always talking about clothes, events and discount codes, about #allveganeverything and #fitspo. We’re being presented the same bags, the same settings, the same ideas. I’m always wondering who those people are who are actually following tons of people who look the same, dress the same, speak the same. If you’re one of them, please let me know, because I am really keen on understanding the appeal of this model.

It’s not like I’m saying this for the first time, I have already said a couple of words about influencers, but I have just seen people sharing ‘oh so true’ posts about the ‘oh so fake’ world of Instagram and bloggers – duh – like it was some really eye-opening news and I felt like I had to add a little something here:

Isn’t it funny how all those people, who are talking about people who are buying followers and how shocking that is, find ways to obtain followers that are different but still not exactly ‘natural’? Personally, I find it irritating to see the same Swiss blogger commenting hearts and glitter every time I look at a picture of a big account. Just as irritated I am when she likes my pictures, day by day, because she is obviously taking the time to like every single picture that was posted using a certain hashtag. Do you really think she is doing this because she really feels it? Because she’s being nice? Because she has nothing else to do? I don’t feel like the followers gained by this – and it is obviously working, +55k – should be called ‘real’.

I really think we should stop classifying followers as ‘real’ or ‘fake’ anyway. While I used to think that engagement was the really important thing, I have realized that even the engagement that that certain blogger gets is fake – tons of smaller yet obviously aspiring accounts commenting the same shallow comments under her pictures as well. I wonder what they are intending…any guess?

Talking about fake… you do know that Kristina Bazan actually comes from a very very poor family? That she has based all of her posts at the beginning on some kind of make-believe world that looked like a pretty Swiss fairytale? I’m not judging at all and she obviously did a brilliant job, I’m just saying that she did it because she knew that this was what would bring her the most approval and followers. Not because she couldn’t digest food other than Ladurée macarons. Not because her Chanel lipstick randomly walked up to her Guerlain powder and Dior perfume and accidentally looked too pretty next to them not to take a picture.

My point is: sometimes I feel like people love being lied to and join in all of the fakeness that they are being presented. And I guess it’s ok, but if that is the case, then you really should stop the shallow pointing out of fakery and draw your own conclusions.

Personally, I am currently following just under 200 account of whom I feel like they add something more to my feed than just the same Chloé bag in another environment, over and over again. Be it style, be it thoughts, be it just a certain kind of attitude, which I don’t necessarily share but enjoy for one reason or another. And I question them, regularly. If I don’t feel like there’s a real value added in terms of inspiration, I remove them.

I know – all of this is not important and it’s not like thoughts about the shallow world of Instagram should occupy our thoughts, but next time you share some ‘eye-opening’ breaking news about buying followers, maybe you should share the whole story. Just a thought.

Not telling the whole truth is shallow, trust me.

Anna

 

P.s.: For everybody who is offended, here’s my disclaimer – for everybody else: please swing by Facebook as well 🙂 xoxo

 

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Nostalgia

Two days ago somebody I know turned 30 and it made me feel so old. I don’t know about you but I am turning 26 in a little less than three weeks and it low key freaks me out. I wanted to be a mother of two by now, what happened?

Wannabe is f*cking 20 years old. Let me spell that out for you – t w e n t y.

I still know the lyrics by heart and frankly, I can’t think of too much that has changed about me since 1996. Years have gone by in a rush and all I’m left with is this feeling of being incredibly old and useless.

I still remember how I wanted to look like Britney Spears so badly when I was eight years old. I thought her style and looks were perfection. Nobody ever told me she didn’t look half as good in real life so I plastered my walls with posters of her only, making my grandmother worry if I would ever show as much interest in men.

Luckily Britney turned out to be a personal disappointment and not a person I look up to anymore – except for when I feel like I’m having the worst possible day ever. After all: if Britney made it through 2007, you can make it through this day.

I was about 12 years old when a friend of mine introduced me to Cruel Intentions.

I can’t tell you how much I watched it and obsessed over it. I was really looking forward to being popular, attractive and a complete utter b*tch, not to mention sexually active, I guess. As much as I like to consider myself a mean person, I’m afraid that my reality never got to look anything like this movie suggested.

The one person that got me through all of my puberty was Eminem. You can say I was absolutely devoted to him – I dreamed of meeting him one day. I knew all of his lyrics by heart, which funnily enough was the base for my English today, hence the liability to swearing which I can’t seem to get rid of.

After I had passed my 18th birthday, I started to realize that basically nothing was going according to plan. I started to loathe birthdays and I still do. I don’t celebrate them. I hate being the center of any kind of attention and I also don’t really care about being reminded of the fact that I have turned another year older and nothing has happened. In fact I have started all of them, except last year, crying as the clock struck 0. Not in a hysterical and loud way, just a little sad and melancholic. Weird, I know – and also totally not me.

But I still didn’t lose hope. When I was 18, I wanted to look like Xtina in Dirrty – hot, firm and dirty, pierced nipples and all. Not those eyebrows, though – that was the only thing that seemed even remotely cheap to me at that time. The realist that I am, I took a bearing of about two years for my transformation – at the age of 20 I wanted to be on top of my game.

Well… and now look at me. Not exactly a close call. This ship has sailed and I don’t even remember when exactly.

When I started university I wanted to get it over with as fast as I could and step out into that exciting independency at the age of 24. Legally Blonde came out 15 years ago. Fifteen.

I remember how I pictured my professional life to turn out something like this: Working somewhere respectable but still being able to work that pink. Currently, I’m sitting in my room, writing on my master’s thesis until April and I will not have my graduation before October. I will be 27 by the time of really feeling independent. Until then I will be able to wear as much pink as I want to on a daily basis, but I have come to realize that I prefer going for comfortable and without make up, just on the verge of being a little disgusting. (If you follow on Snapchat @chaotete you might have noticed…) So much for that five-year plan I had to present at my first interview for an internship and every interview after.

At some point at university, I realized how much I had seen all of what had seemed super exciting at the beginning – which was dating and partying above all – and ready to become a true adult: settled down, stable and babies in sight. I’m Russian, after all. I don’t know if this has something to do with the fact that I never got that Xtina body or not, but the only baby in sight is me – 25 and still mommy’s baby.

I used to think that 24 was the ideal age for just about anything. Looks, career, family – super experienced and chill about life, far enough from being a teenager but still young and up for anything.

But see, I’m kind of running late. I’m now approaching 26, which is closer to 30 than it is to 20, you know? Everything I ever thought I wanted at a distinct point in my life has not happened yet. And when I think of it, I’m happy about most of them.

So every time somebody asks me for my five-year plan, I feel like bursting out laughing hysterically – like what do you mean? I know that all of my answers from five years ago looked a lot different than where I am right now and I am sure – or hope? – that this is the same for most of the people who were ever asked that question.

I have come to believe in a thing that my mother always tells me, whether you believe in it or not: Things happen or don’t happen for a reason. If one thing doesn’t happen, it means something better will happen. Everything is the way it should be in the end. With this being said, it might be for the better that I didn’t turn out to look anything like Xtina…But then again… considering that she was 28 at that time leaves me another two years of steppin’ up my dirrty game. What do you think? In either case, I’ll try to not cry at my upcoming birthday.

So…how about your childhood heroes and role models? Did you turn out anything you thought you would? Please join in my nostalgia and share your shattered hopes and dreams with me.

Forget that five-year plan, trust me.

Anna

 

P.S.: I don’t expect this post to offend you, but if it does – please consult my disclaimer. If you’ve been reading my babble for a while now, I really think you should finally go and give that Facebook page a like, seriously. Mercibo xoxo

 

ALSO: I’m really happy about you sending me pictures with your bracelets – so please feel free to contact me if you’d still like a free @girlcasm bracelet.

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No excuses

Soooo… if you haven’t lived under a rock for the last couple of days, you know that the Pokémon movement is currently experiencing some sort of a comeback with Pokémon Go, a location based game that has people walking around with their phones, trying to CATCH EM ALL. As with any kind of hype, for every person who is totally into it, there’s always somebody who is just as against it. Well, guess which side I’m on…

As usual, I’d like to start off with a few words about my connection to this.

I am a huge former Pokémon fan myself. With my Jewish genes being strong already at young age, I wasn’t too much into collecting cards – my parents thought it was a dumb idea to spend money on them and somehow I never disagreed – and I didn’t like the idea of having to buy and buy in order to find what I was looking for. After all it says catch em all, not some of them – such pressure. I loved the series though and I did spend hours on hours on my gameboy, trying to catch as many of them as possible.

So Pokémon being back and all, it’s cool, honestly – I know I would enjoy spending another couple of hours on my gameboy today, remembering the times when I had loved it so much – I don’t judge. I get it. Maybe, in fact, the reason why I am not planning to try Pokémon Go is exactly because I am afraid I might be too weak and fall back into old patterns, forgetting everything around me because of some fictional world capturing my attention. After all, I’m spending enough time with all sorts of devices and apps as it is.

What I don’t get and what I don’t support is the bullshit reasons people find in order to justify their revived ludic drive. Yesterday somebody told me how smart the people around Pokémon Go are, creating a game that forces kids to move and get outside in order to advance and how beneficial it is that even landmarks and important spots in the city are labeled, leading to an increase of knowledge among younger players and how, as a consequence, he can see why many parents will support this game…and somehow I keep hearing such arguments when it comes to Pokémon Go. Ouch.

Now I don’t want to be all good-parents-bad-parents here, since I obviously don’t know what I’m talking about, but can we just stop treating this smart move by everybody involved any differently than what it is: genius business. Because yes, I get why people are feeling the hype, I get why this is experiencing such success – but please. No mother in her right mind will say yay, I’m so glad my boy took his gaming outside, at least now he’s moving while not noticing a thing around him. So happy my daughter is getting some fresh air while she’s staring at that screen. I mean, people have been snapchatting outside for a while now and nobody ever got the idea of applauding that – for a reason. Honestly – whoever really supports exercise and going outside to play will not make a positive connection here in order to justify his or her encouragement, except if he or she is a complete moron.

Taking Pokémon to this new level is a genius business move, yes, I salute that. But it’s not more than that. It wasn’t created in order to encourage people to move and exercise. It is here to drive stock price and business opportunities. Not more, not less. And guess what – that’s ok.

So, go on, have fun with Pokémon – but don’t try to find some bullshit excuses. Enjoy it or not and stand for it – it’s just a game.

Stop fooling yourself, trust me.

Anna

 

P.s.: Don’t be offended – but if you are, here’s my disclaimer. If you’re not, here’s the @girlcasm Facebook page so swing by and share the love, how about that? xoxo

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