I read all your comments and I read all your emails and most of the time they make me smile so broadly that all you would see, if you could see, is gum and teeth. My real, spontaneous smile is dorky. But sometimes, your comments and your emails, make me sad. Because you, and you and you relate to some of the more painful seconds of my life.I hate that.

No matter our combined experiences, I grip onto hope because I have no other choice.  Hope has saved me from becoming stone hard, and cynical.  Sometimes, hope has tortured me and keeps me back; thinking of situations long past their expiration date. Very rarely, hope eludes me. And when it does, when I can no longer see or hear or feel hope, when I am no longer able to find inspiration, I read some words that a friend once penned with me in mind:

Hope fades.

It seeps through every crack until it doesn’t have enough to glow, and I know
that you’re tired. I see the blinds come over your eyes when you’re through with
looking out for that night-light you can keep in your pocket all the time.
Don’t put down that red lip-stick, don’t you dare. You need to draw
eyes to your lips because that is where people see your sunrising soul-
through your wise words and quirky quips,
the quick curve of your smile.

Hope fades, but it never dies.
You taught me that.

I will never put down that red lip-stick. (OK, maybe I will. But only to replace it with my pink one): don’t you dare put it down either.

Share with me, what inspires you to hold out for hope?

…I’d start by flipping it the right way up; it’s been upside down for way too long.  (Better Off Ted was cancelled and Two and a Half Men is still on the air? Seriously?)

…it would be compulsory for talented, ambitious, hard workers to have actual, paying jobs.

…gentle, well intentioned, well timed honesty would be held to a higher esteem than comfortable, easy to handle lies.

…women that pretend to be dumb to get ahead would be locked up.

…men that pretend to want a relationship to get laid, would join them. (Y’all can procreate together.)

…we would travel by teleportation.

…the unattached would wear rings. (I think we are the ones that need to recognize each other far more than marrieds do.)

…there would be fines for those who do not reply to text messages, emails and phone calls. (I’d be über fair though. The statute of limitations on this would be one year.)

…pink shirts on straight men would be illegal; punishable by public mocking.

…witty, devilish, intelligent, sarcastic, responsible, available men would have NO CHOICE but to be insanely attracted to me.

What would you do if you ruled the world?

(Inspired by Stacy over at Chasing Paradise)

I’ve been carrying some baggage lately. I worked hard to get it because I spent the entire winter eating my weight in nuts and lollipops. As a result, I haven’t been in the mood to go shopping for Kyla Roma’s Six Months/Six Dresses challenge. But, I am still taking part because a) I’m not a quitter and b) I’ve got plenty of dresses already.

May’s Dress [Left]

I bought this dress two summer’s ago on sale from a small boutique in Athens. Since then, I’ve worn it a handful of times, most notably on my first date with my most recent ex. When I took it out to wear again at the end of May, all the memories came rushing back. This dress reminds me of all that potential I felt back then and I felt sad in it all day. (Hence the ridiculously solemn face in the picture) I chose to wear it again in June for a cocktail party and thankfully all the memories attached to it are beginning to fade.  Now, when I look at it it is not my First Date Dress but the dress that made a certain gentleman ask a certain bride-to-be about me. Now, it’s my Who is that Girl Dress.

June’s Dress [Right]

I bought this purple, silk dress on sale from Donna Karan three years ago. The first time I wore it was this past Friday to a wedding. So, it technically does count as a ‘new’ dress. (If I bend the rules slightly). While, I have always loved the colour purple I don’t wear it an awful lot because I don’t understand what colours match with it. The internet suggested gold or silver which I vetoed immediately because I thought it was boring and expected. Instead, I chose a blue-green peep toe. The wedding itself was beautiful. The food was exceptional (Mushroom risotto? Yum), the music was fun (We danced all night!) and the mood was merry. But it was the location that reminded me of the reason I love living in the southern suburbs of Athens: the ubiquitous, yet silent presence of that sea.

But back to my earlier, more important point. Do you name your dresses too?

A couple of weeks ago, I decided to take part in Kyla Roma’s Six Months + Six Dresses Challenge. It’s not really a challenge for me to buy pretty dresses but this gives me a good reason to do so without any guilt. Score.

April’s Dress

Zara €25

This is the blue dress. It is short, shorter than I ordinarily wear dresses. Despite this, it is comfortable. The pictured belt is the one that came with it which is fine for the day. But for night time outings to impress,  I’ve worn it with a thicker black belt that cinches my waist tighter. I paired it with chunky gold earrings and a bracelet because the gold buttons on the shoulders are quite delicate.

What do you think?

p.s If you’re taking part in this, leave a comment with a link to your blog, so that I can check out your dresses too.

Today I’m guest blogging for the very awesome Ashalah. Here’s an excerpt to wet your appetite.

‘As a school girl of nine years old I would get more excited about Valentine’s Day than any other day of the year.  Would this year be the year that I get a card from a secret admirer? This thought would keep me up at night and on those mornings I waited impatiently for my brother to wake up so that we could go to school already!  I wanted to hear the sound of the soft knocking on the door. The Valentine’s Squad would come in holding baskets filled with envelopes and–on the rare occassions–flowers.  They would apologize to the teacher for the interruption and then begin to call out names…’

Go on over there to read the rest and be sure to leave a comment!

In collaboration with a number of other bloggers, we have declared today as Blog Scam Awareness Day.

Last year I wrote a detailed post about my personal experience with a particularly popular blog designer. You can read the full post here.

Since then, that post is consistently the most viewed post on Hope Dies Last. It is also on the first page of Google when you search the name of that Design Studio followed by the word complaint. This clearly suggests to me that there are many other people out there that have gone through a similar experience. In fact, there are people that were scammed after me that shouldn’t have because my post didn’t reach a broad enough audience.There are people that were scammed after me because I gave up.

This is my attempt to correct that.

Blog Scam Awareness Day is a day to reach out to all bloggers in a united and concerted effort to protect each other; to share our stories so that others will not fall into the same trap.

The facts as I know them are these…

Name: Jessica Bailey Sanderson [Also goes by the names of tattooed mama and mamabearjess.]

Previous Owner of: Cuppycake Designs, Delicious Design Studio, Web Design Gal. [Please note: The current owner of Delicious Design Studio is not affiliated with Jessica in any way and is as much, if not more, of a victim as the rest of us]

Number of bloggers she has taken money from but never fulfilled her obligations: Anywhere between 20 and 80.Possibly more.

Average amount she has taken from each blogger: Based on other accounts I have read, this is probably between $100-$150.  [I payed $222.] In addition, according to Flippa [formerly Marketplace] in May 2009, she sold her business in an online auction for $50, 000.

In October of 2009, I was informed that Jessica had set up a new company–Web Design Gal. But after being confronted by another scammed blogger, that site was removed. As it stands now, she very well could be operating under a different name.

Our goals:

1. To increase awareness so that this particular designer does not continue to work in this way [under any name]. But to also discourage others who may want to take advantage of the anonymity that the internet provides.

2. To attempt to collect a detailed and comprehensive list of all bloggers who have been affected by Jessica.

3. To protect each other.

What can you do?

If you have also been scammed or know of someone who has been scammed by Jessica, fill out this form.

Spread the word.  Twitter, link or repost.

And finally, I know that some will disagree with this course of action. I–myself–have been hesitant to name and shame. It feels dirty. It goes against my nature. Please be aware that most of us have exhausted all the ‘right ways’ of complaining. I have filed complaints with Paypal, the Better Business Bureau and the FTC Bureau of Consumer Protection. This has achieved nothing. And every time I hear of yet another person who lost money and got no design, I am filled with disbelief and rage. How is it possible that in a tightly knit community of bloggers that inspired the Love Harder movement [Go! Donate! Shop!] we have allowed this to happen? How is it possible that this person has not been held to account?

If blogging camaraderie can inspire us to Love Harder, I also think that blogging should inspire us to protect each other.

Even if, sometimes, it feels uncomfortable.

Thanks to the following bloggers for taking a stand with me.

Tattoos & Cupcakes

The Tambourine Queen

Mom In Real Life

A new year cannot really feel like a new year until the previous year has been dissected, right? So here it is. 2009.  (2008 can be found here)

I’ve got a number of post saved up in my drafts folder to share with all of you. There are posts about a revelation, boys, strength, love and a half kiss!

But I’m far too busy working, eating, streaming missed episodes of The Gilmore Girls and spending time with friends in town for the holidays to actually edit those posts into coherent, inspiring, semi-vague  Hope Dies Last kind of posts.

Instead, I wanted to drop by and let you know that I’ve been nominated for a 20SB Bootlegger Award. Thank you so much for all those who put my name up for Best Across The Pond Blogger. I have a feeling (it could be my unconquerable, delusional hope)  that this could be the year that I actually win one of these babies!

So I IMPLORE you–members of 20SB–vote for me! Choose me! Love me!

As a professional writer, I have quickly had to learn not to take negative feedback personally. I openly ask my clients to tell me whether the tone I have used, whether the words I have chosen are the right ones for their needs. In our correspondence, I usually say: “Tell me what you hate and I’ll change it.” It works well. They’re happy and my ego remains intact.

As a personal blogger, the same learning curve has been steeper. It’s a challenge not to take comments personally. After all, these aren’t about style but rather about content. And when the content is gut wrenching personal, well, it takes a certain type of backbone not to care. But I have learned that when it comes to spilling my truths; sometimes I get it wrong. I don’t express it clearly enough. I am misunderstood. Or rather because I choose to expose a narrow version of my life, I misrepresent myself.

The letter I wrote in the post below was not received in the spirit I had intended. Hope’s comeback post to the blogosphere was an epic failure.

Besides the crickets that reverberated across my blog’s walls I also received two comments that first confused me and then hurt me.

My intentions were to show a fleeting moment of emotion. In my first hand experience (and second hard experience) of relationships, I have observed that there are some past flames that months, even years later still manage to unnerve us. We run into them on an arbitrary day that has been pleasantly wonderful. We run into them and without any warning our minds flood with old emotions; as if not a single day has passed.They are different yet they are the same. That grip they had on you is not there anymore but if you wanted to, you could dream. You could fall in love with them again. For they are still the same and because they are still the same you think, ‘I could be with this person’. It is night and it is cold and you are wearing your favourite jeans and reality and practicality are slaves to the day.

My intentions were to show what that short emotional journey could look and sound like; a completely private inner turmoil between head and heart.  I had hoped that someone out there could relate to that.

In the absence of that, I keep having to remind myself that the fact that I need to explain all of this now only means that I failed as a writer; I did not fail as a human being.