Hope Dies Last

I have not been on a airplane in over two years. I have not left Athens in over two years. Every time I go to Ikea–which sits directly opposite Athens International–I get thunderous heart palpitations.

It’s not a lot of fun.

As you now, in a couple of weeks I’m flying to a lovely island for a fabulous engagement party. Even though, I’ll be dutifully taking a Xanax, I think about this trip as if it will be the ordeal of my life. All 40 minutes of it. My therapist suggested that I visit the airport a couple of times before my departure as a type of exposure therapy.

Yesterday, armed with positive thoughts and my mother I made attempt number one. And you know what?

It was fine.

We walked around, I looked at the queues with interest, we shopped and then we sat at McDonald’s watching a dozen planes taking off and landing. It was exciting and part of me missed my flying days. When I travelled four times a year and could care less. A separate part of me was a little jealous. I wished I was the one going on some sort of an adventure. I looked over at all the people and I wondered: “Where are you all going? Are any of you frightened to your very core?”

So I ‘m still nervous. I’m not looking forward to the flight but it needs to be done. This particular fear stops me from doing all sorts of stuff. It needs to be faced, head on, right now before it gets worse. Before I become a hermit. Before I haven’t left the city in a decade and small kids stop in front of my window, point and whisper amongst themselves, “They say she hasn’t left her house in 30 years [Kids always exaggerate] but that she’s ridiculously adorable.” [OK. So they don't do it all the time.]

Would you like to help me?

I thought so.

Here’s what you can do. Tell me your happy travelling stories. Do you love airports? Why exactly? It can be anything big or small.  Where are you going this summer? Where was the last place you went to by plane? Do you adore flying? What part? Why?

I’m hoping your stories and your thought and perhaps even your quirks might help me once again be comfortable in the sky.

Dear Old Dude,

Hi there, I’m Hope. You don’t know me by name, but I’m the girl who flashed you her left boob this morning.

LET ME EXPLAIN.

See, I woke up this morning with a phone call from my sister begging me to get my ass to the pharmacy immediately because Nephew # 1 hadn’t done his Number 2s in several days. She needed me to get a suppository.

I jumped out of bed and slipped on the first dress in my wardrobe. A strapless, maxi and off I went.

On my way home, I decided to stop at Starbucks for my usual Chai. When I exited Starbucks I was met with a pretty regular phenomenon.  A car had parked right next to me  on the driver’s side. He had parked so close that I could NOT open my door. I couldn’t even fit between our two cars to get to the door.

Old dude, I am impatient and after five minutes I was tired of waiting.

I opened the passenger door and attempted to climb into the drivers seat. Of course, as I did this my foot stepped onto the hem of my dress. As a result the top dropped and VOILA!

BOOB EXPOSURE.

Of course, I did not realize this for at least one full minute as I made myself comfortable, put my drink in the cup holder and tried to find my keys that had fallen out of hand.

60 SLOW SECONDS OF BOOB EXPOSURE

Oh.

My.

Cringing.

God.

Anywaaaaaay, all I really wanted to say was thank you for not staring.

(As much as you could have done)

Much appreciation,

Hope in a Bra

This post is a part of 20SB’s Looking Back Blog Carnival, and Ben & Jerry’s is awarding free ice cream to lucky bloggers and readers! I picked my first ever post on this blog for your looking back pleasure.

***

Anna Begins

The Greek word for a single girl is ‘eleutheri‘ sharing its root from the verb ‘to be free’.

Funny thing is that I do not feel free. Not. At all. After a certain age, being single comes with a ton of pressure. Try as you may to disregard the hushed tones and raised eyebrows, after awhile it begins to affect you.

It affects you from the way you shop to the trips you want to take. Lingerie stores become off limits. Why would I want to wear a lacy bra and panties when no-one will see them but my cat (For the record, I do not have a cat, which makes me ten times sadder). Going on vacation is tricky business. If you do not have a group of like-minded single friends, your only choices are to visit friends that live in cities around the world. (But I want to go on a real-stay-in-a-hotel-kind-of-holiday you say? Wait in line, find a man and then maybe it will happen!)

I have always enjoyed going for a Sunday morning coffee. But do you know who goes out for Sunday morning coffees? Couples. Smug couples that buy newspapers and read while sitting next to each other. Sure, I have tried going on my own, but in a country where ‘being alone=something must be wrong with you, you sad, sad person’ I try to avoid it. Now, I go to the gym and drink my coffee on my way home.

I thought being free had something to do with having the choice to do whatever you like. Sure, I can do whatever I want, whenever I want it, how I want it (watching bad T.V. and crying over every Grey’s Anatomy episode? Sure.) Because no-one will be there to stop me or judge me or roll their eyes at me to change the channel.

But, no-one is there either when I want to say “Hey! Isn’t this an awesome song?” No-one is there when you want to try out that new restaurant, no-one is there when you are miserable. And no-one is there when you are happy. No-one to hear the cute joke you made in your head or to hear you rant about the sales assistant that made you feel so small. A companion, a partner, a friend.

Someone to do all the things that being free allows you to do. Someone to share all the thoughts that being free allows you to have. Someone to be free with.

***

Changes:

I buy sexy lingerie. And the only person who sees it is my cat.

I have a cat.

Sunday morning coffee is overrated.

Other than these obvious changes, the most important change is my frame of mind. My philosophy on ‘freedom’ has changed. Hope of today says, “Blah blah blah. Whatever! Freedom is awesome. With or without a man. I have friends to share my jokes with and an audience of readers to share my thoughts with. That is enough.

Yesterday was a bad day. Yesterday was one of those days were you fail to see all that you have and all that you do do. In honour of today and feeling a lot better, I finally decided to complete The Perfect Meme that I saw over at Brandy’s a couple of weeks ago.

The perfect outfit

It depends on the time of year and the occasion. In summer, my perfect outfit are always dresses; whether its my bright, floral maxi dress or a shorter emerald green dress. I love that all I need to do is slip them on. No mess, no fuss. That is the reason that my perfect outfit in winter is a pair of jeans, boots,  a sweater and a pretty scarf. I may be high mainteneance emotionally, but I’m a pretty low maintenance kind of girl.

The perfect meal

I have began to really despise food questions. (I’m looking at you Crohn’s Disease!) I guess at this point, anything that doesn’t make my intestines squirm is a winner!

The perfect hangover cure

I haven’t had a hangover since April of 2002. True story. This has mainly to do with the fact that I stopped drinking then started again but always knew my limit and then stopped again. So, best hangover cure ala Hope, just drink in moderation to begin with. It may not be sexy, fun or rock ‘n roll– but its true.

The perfect road trip

A couple of years ago, three friends and I jumped into an Audi A3 and hit the road. I don’t remember the music, I don’t remember the journey, I don’t recall the  topics of conversation. All I remember is the constant laughing. That’s my perfect road trip.

The perfect facial feature

While a smile would be on my top 3 perfect facial features. Nothing beats those expressions of complete shock. The ones with raised eyebrows and mouths shaped in an O. Those make me giggle.

The perfect drink

An iced chai latte. Yum-ee.

The perfect song

Anna Begins| Counting Crows

Chasing Cars | Snow Patrol

Say Goodnight & Go | Imogen Heap

Hallelujah | Jeff Buckley

The perfect sign of affection

A guiding hand at the small of my back.

The perfect afternoon

Napping with the one you love. In my case, Diego.

The perfect vacation

While I do love those sightseeing vacations especially in European cities with cobblestone pavements and good food (Hi Barcelona! Hi Florence!) I do also pretty much adore the standrad Greek Island vacation. These usually follow the same schedule everyday. Breakfast time-Beach time-Lunch time-Nap time-Walk time-Dinner time-Card games on a balcony time/Drink time.

The perfect invention

Hair straighteners.

The perfect type of wedding

Intimate, late morning, early Autumn

The perfect album

The Killers| Hot Fuss

The perfect accent

First place, British.

Second place, Spanish.

Third place, Irish.

The perfect date

The kind that never end. A quick coffee turns to a long walk, a long walk turn to lunch followed by drinks followed by dinner.

The perfect weather

Crisp, sunny winter mornings. Cool, summer evenings.

The perfect party

Eclectic mix of people. BBQ. A pool. Candles. The Rizla Game.

The perfect sport

Football.

The perfect thing to say

I have given this so much thought my brain hurts. This dialogue between Josh and Donna  from The West Wing pretty much sums it up for me.

Josh: You know, if you were in an accident I wouldn’t stop for a beer.

Donna: If you were in an accident, I wouldn’t stop for red lights.

The perfect day of the week

Monday because  I’m a morning person. And Monday, well Monday is like the morning of the week.

If you do nothing, nothing will happen.

If you do nothing,  nothing will change.

If you do nothing, you will have nothing to say.

(But, you will cry a lot in therapy)