She was never a good Mother. Her constant abuse of alcohol lead to abuse of us…abuse of me. She hurt me in so many ways, and I resented her for years. After five years of not talking to her, David convinced me to give her a chance.
I had lunch with her today. I saw her curly white hair and her tired eyes. The story she was telling me was the same as the one I heard the last time… and the time before that…and ten years ago. She is still fighting her demons, and keeps giving me the same promises; same promises of upcoming change and how things will turn around. Today she told me she was proud of me and she can’t wait for me to be proud of her.
I used to believe her, but I don’t anymore… and that doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. I have accepted her and her bullshit stories.
What I want to tell to anyone who has been in a situation like this….if you decide to forgive them for what they have done, don’t do it for them. Do it for yourself- and don’t expect anything back…it may be selfish but it will help you sleep at night. Some people never change and you shouldn’t be the one suffering because of it.
Nobody else in the world understands and can possibly grasp the American obsession with soft drinks, nobody.
It’s almost a phenomenon. Europeans would get a heart attack at the thought of drinking Coke on a normal day that’s not birthday or some other type of celebration, and would possibly die at the thought of drinking Diet Coke (since it’s artificial and contains all those E’s!!)
Even though Coca-Cola is not moving as much as it used to, Americans still love their Diet-Coke, Coke, or whatever else soft drink. Pop. Soda....I know people who cringe at the thought of drinking water. Cringe! They prefer to go a whole day thirsty than drink water.
It’s a sad situation because even with the rise of bottled water consumption, customers buy flavored water which is just another soft drink (only with a different label). Heck, it’s produced by the same companies. Who do you think makes Dasani Plus?
It’s a sad world we live in. Water has become too boring to consume and kids are drinking every artificial drink out there… without realizing that water is the best drink in the world.
What do you think, readers? Comment, like, dislike, share…. :))
P.S: Thanks for reading my blog!
P.S2: Check out my book on Amazon! 🙂
Coca-Cola Sales Slide Article
Don’t worry, it’s not official statistics. I am talking from my personal experience. In my book, Jenna comes back from her half a year study abroad in France. She was lucky- half a year wasn’t too long. Things were different, but she could still fall back into the old pattern.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t fit in anymore. I was gone for a year and a half three times. I’m sure those of you that have been gone from home for a year or more, you noticed things changed. Not only did they change but they changed in a way they didn’t include you. People you love so dearly started having excuses. They didn’t have time to Skype, they didn’t have time to talk….the time difference became a hassle. They didn’t send you photos and they forgot to scribble a card for your birthday.
After a year of being gone, your friends are still happy to see you but they started living a life without you. Even if you still do everything as it was, things have changed. You feel like you are dispensable. Life goes on without you.
Have any one of you had similar/different experiences? Thanks for reading my blog, please like, share or comment! 😀
As I wait for important news to shake up my life, I wait in agony. Gosh, the waiting! There’s nothing worse than aimless standing by; I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. I feel sick. My writing is even worse than usual.
Old Egyptian’s described lake of fire and iron walls as the ultimate hell. More familiar, Alighieri’s description starts with inferno, where people have to “chase after their self-interest while being followed by a swarm of insects and infected by maggots.” Sounds bad, but none of that compares to the mental hell one goes through when waiting.
“It’s like my insides are being murdered,” my friend said once. And it’s true. Waiting is slowly tearing apart your insides. Please, I’ll take the weird maggots, just tell me the news already!
Have you ever felt like I do right now? How did you handle it? Tell me, leave a comment, I want to know.
P.S: Thanks for reading my blog! I also did another re-edit of my book on Amazon, I always listen to reader’s thoughts! Check it out! 😀
P.S.2: Here’s the link to the different hell descriptions. Interesting read!
It’s not beer. It’s not wurst with sauerkraut either. Nope, it’s not fancy cars or wearing lederhosen on a Sunday.
I think anyone who’s ever been on a road in Germany will agree that Germans, above all, love STAU. What is Stau, you ask? Stay is a German word for traffic jam. Traffic congestion, if you will. But this is not the rush hour kind. No, this Stau is a result of Germans unanimously going on holidays. Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall, they are always on holidays (apparently the minimum is 3 weeks. Minimum!)
I’ve had my share of traffic jams in Orlando and Atlanta, but the Stau in Germany deserves a separate mentioning. They wait in lines for kilometers upon kilometers, not seeming to care. Some read a book while waiting, some walk around and get a smoke (can you ever see that happen in the U.S.?), and some take their kids for a number one in the nearby grass. Some stretch, do a little yoga right on the side of the road or listen to the music like they are already on the beach, relaxing.
It’s simply incredible… and they must love it. Because I have never seen as much Stau as I did in Germany. I have never seen people more relaxed and willing to wait in 20 kilometer lines in their Audis and family vans just to go vacation in Croatia, or Italy. I think they don’t even like vacation, they do it for the traffic jam and the amazing stories they can tell about the Stau they were in.
Did anybody else have the same experience? Like, share and comment, please. Let me hear your thoughts! 🙂 Thanks for reading my blog!
P.S: My book, which talks about an American doing a study abroad in France, is available on Amazon. Check it out! 🙂 🙂 It costs less than a Starbucks coffee and you can enjoy it longer!
Surprisingly, I am so desensitized that highly elegant “til sweat drips from my b*lls” lyrics don’t phase me anymore. I have learned not to expect much from artists which call themselves “Pitbull, Tank, or Shorty Shitstain”…..
However, every now and then, the impoverished lyricism of today’s writers really grinds my gears. I was driving to Miami, nervously switching radio stations in the hopes of finding a song I could listen to… when I came across a Pitbull song. One of the lines uttered in his pretentious baritone was “I saw, I conquered, I came.” Dear Pitbull, “VENI, VIDI, VICI” is representative of an achievement, a historic moment that changed history. Caesar beat Pharnaces II in war….what any other horny teenager, and you, apparently, are so proud to be able to do, is not victorious or glory worthy.
So, please, stick to the common ABAB rhyming scheme for unoriginal sexual innuendos and at least leave us the beautiful tricolons and hendiatritis.
Sometimes bad luck lasts a couple of days, but this one has been dragging around for a while. As I was sitting on the couch earlier, contemplating why and how I deserve this bad time in my life (there is nothing wrong with a little self-pity), I suddenly noticed the “Surviving the French Revolution” book.
It was given to me by a friend, and I only opened it once….a while ago….to make a herbarium out of a four-leaf clover. Suddenly it hit me. Perhaps the 1:10,000 chance in finding a four-leaf clover does not bless you with good luck, but perhaps with bad luck too. Did I bring my own misfortune disguised in a leafy green clover?
I had to do something about it. Throwing it away would mean it is still there, just in a different location. Instead, I found a pair of matches in the kitchen cabinet and lit it on fire. It had to be incinerated, only that way it can stop jinxing my life. I hope from now on my bad luck is gone.
Are you guys superstitious? Do you think a clover or a lucky charm truly bring good luck? Am I a little crazy for doing this? Share your thoughts with me
P.S: Thank you everyone who took the time to get my special offer on Amazon a few days ago. I am thrilled some people out there are reading what I wrote….IT MEANS THE WORLD! And please leave a review or comment, love it or hate it.
As I mourn a sudden death of a relative merely couple days ago, news of Robin Williams’s death struck me some moments ago. The heartbreaking news keeps coming and this week has been nothing but misery…Misery knowing those that inspired others are gone.
Death is part of life and I accept it as it comes, but I never accept or forgive it that it takes those that are contributors, those that find their meaning and strike us with their presence. That, death, I will never forgive you. Your greedy fingers trying to reach great men and women from our world and stealing them away.
I can only find comfort knowing they lived their best lives.
How do you, readers, deal with a loss? Or should I ask how do you deal with death? Please comment, it is always great to hear from others who have dealt with it. Thank you.
“It was a remarkable morning; the lake was quiet, the light blue color of the sky was reflecting on the surface of the water and green trees were peacefully resting nearby.”– Jenna Gunner
Jenna Gunner, in my sort of cliché description, lives for the moments by the lake and finds those moments to be remarkable; the sense of peacefulness, tranquility and connectedness with nature astound her.
I, on the other hand, am a little simpler with “remarkable”. When you lead a crazy-busy schedule, you start finding simple things remarkable. I love my long rides in an overly air-conditioned car (Florida heat is terrible, ya’ll). I love them because they bring me peace and serenity (on those instances I avoid rush hour).
The point is, we all have different ideas on what is remarkable. What is worthy of remark in your life? Comment, like and share!
P.S: Another remarkable thing in my life: my book “Six months of Croissants, Café crèmes, Parties and Love” for FREE on Amazon from August 8th to August 12th! Please check it out and leave a review on Amazon, whether you love it or hate it 🙂 Thank you!
“What about you? How have you been? How long are you staying?” “Same as last year, about two weeks,” I answered.- Jenna Gunner
As Americans, we don’t often get the short end of the stick… but when I look at my vacations days, I can’t help but feel envious. Damn Europeans. As I hope for maybe two weeks (including weekends!), there is an Italian out there with 42 days of vacation, a Frenchman with 37 days and a German with 35 days…. and I get 13 days? When did we allow this to happen?
Do you know what happens in Europe in the summertime? Companies shut down. People are gone for a month and little work gets done in July and August. But guess what? Everybody comes back happy and rested. Sadly, for Americans a weekend is a vacation these days, and quite frankly that is horrendously bothersome.
How many vacation days do you get? Do you think Europeans have too much time off?
P.S: Thanks for reading my blog! 😀 Check out my book on Amazon, and don’t forget to comment, share or like!
Stats on Vacation Days