"best of london"

Today is the 11th anniversary of This Battered Suitcase. I’d be lying if I said that I felt OK about it all, and that I still have the confidence that things would go back to “normal”. It hits me like a ton of bricks a few times a day: the dream job I worked for for almost two decades is gone, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get it back to where it used to be. The last year has brought with it massive waves of anxiety, and on some days, I can’t even turn on my computer, let alone try to write anything meaningful or coherent.

For a self-proclaimed bibliophile, I barely read any books in 2020. I would get excited about books I purchased, start them, and then stop reading after only one chapter. My mind just wasn’t in right place to read more (or do much of anything, if I’m honest).

Here’s how I managed to fall in love with reading again, and how to read more books.

I was in the dating world for about twenty years before I met my boyfriend, Jon. With those twenty years came a lot of experience, both for the better and for the worse. I’ve been ghosted after three months of dating, I’ve dealt with intermittent reinforcement, and I’ve been in my fair share of rocky relationships. But the most common dating experience I’ve had? Love bombing. I only recently realized exactly what love bombing is, so I thought I’d share the warning signs and how to avoid it. Because – trust me – love bombing never ends well.

I’m not quite sure where to begin with this year in review. It doesn’t help that I am nearly three weeks late in publishing it; like 2020, 2021 seems to already be passing by in a strange vacuum of time. I wake up, I don’t really do anything, and then it’s dark outside. I don’t do anything, and yet time goes by and I’m always tired.

What a great way to start a review, eh? I’m sure you’re just chomping at the bit to read more!

Over the past few months, I’ve been sharing my new approach to being healthy (both in body and in mind) on this blog. This particular post will probably make a lot more…

“I’m saving the Amalfi Coast for something special,” I remember saying to a friend in London, years ago. I had just returned from Cinque Terre for the third time, another part of Italy that is raved about for its beauty. The Amalfi Coast, a 50-kilometre stretch of coastline along the Mediterranean, kept eluding me despite being so high on my dream travel list. Saying I was saving if for something special made me feel slightly better about not seeing it yet.

The truth is, I didn’t know what that “something special” was going to be. “I’m saving the Amalfi Coast for something special,” became my mantra, the Amalfi Coast becoming that destination that was always in the back of my mind, that place I so desperately wanted to visit but didn’t know how.