Twenty Minute Friends

To the guy I found myself sitting next to on my train journey back from London,

I stood arm weighed down by my bag filled with food and stuff. Stuff like my pills and three water bottles which I had to pack just in case, and my purse I've had since I was sixteen. Five different shades of lipstick, in stain, gloss and balm form. I had a book to read, and my new diary, and a notebook, and a journal. But only one pen, right at the bottom of all that stuff.

Some hyper-active children were running about the place squealing at strangers. At about eight or nine they looked too old to be behaving that way, but we all develop at different ages, don't we? That's what I've been thinking about this past year. I have these things going on in my head for a long time, and eventually some sort of conclusion is made - influenced by just one thing someone might say that makes me think, yes, that's it - that's exactly it. But I haven't got there with this one yet. I still ponder over the fact that we all develop at different ages. And when do we finally get there? What is the final destination?

Eventually the platform was announced for our train and a herd of suitcases hurry their way behind their owners, and I followed, unbuttoning my coat along the way, sipping on the orange mocha that I regretfully bought from Starbucks. It tasted like orange peel, and too much sugar.

I used to come to London with my ex boyfriend, but London is so big that it doesn't get marked by people or memories so much. Every time you go there you make new ones, and the taste of the past still is there in the present, but it's not too strong - not too painful. We used to play this game where we would guess what platform our train would be on on the way back home, the tension building in Paddington station as passengers waited, eyes glued to the screens for the number to flash on - it was never announced until just a few minutes before departure. I remember winning once. Platform one.

But that evening I met you I was going somewhere else entirely. I was glad that I hadn't booked a table seat, at least. Inevitable eye contact and brushing legs and too many bags. I like to stare into the back of the seat and listen to whatever is going on behind me, or think about tomorrow or the weekend or talk to God or just listen to my crazy thoughts and either take them too seriously and panic or laugh. But that evening - 2nd January 2014 - I found myself reading my book. I read for the longest time. Maybe I just didn't want to talk to you. I can't even remember your name. Sorry. It really isn't anything personal.

About twenty minutes before my stop you turned to me, plucked the earphones out of your ears and put forward a hand.

"Hi, I'm bored, that's why I want to talk," you said. I know why I didn't believe you - because I'm naive and skeptical at all the wrong times. You genuinely were bored, I knew that the moment we parted ways, and you did just want to talk. But straight away I thought of ways to get out of this, knowing you would ask for my number at the end of it all, thinking of an excuse, all the way through the following.

"That's ok," I said, dog-earring the page of my book and putting it into my bag.

"What's your name?"

"Naomi." Then the look. "Nay-oh-me." Unfortunately, I had to repeat a third time. This wasn't the best start.

Soon enough I was telling you all about my Christmas and New Year, where I went to uni, how I was starting a new job on Monday, everything I had been thinking over the words I was reading in my book previously.

We had a fair amount in common. You said you lived in Scunthorpe but really you just work there. I can't remember the name of the village you said you lived in. You said you studied engineering or something, but again, my memory fails me. It's not that I don't care, but when these things happen, I forget the important information straight away. You told me your name and I forgot almost instantly because I'm too busy examining your face, wondering why on earth you thought it a good idea to get your tragus pierced (perhaps you think the same about me), figuring out your story, when really I should wait to be told.

It was easy saying goodbye. It was nice, in fact. And then when I walked away I felt a sense of relief, like I had achieved something, like I just finished an exam that I just knew I had passed. Maybe I am getting better at being an adult. Thank you for that. We were friends for twenty minutes, I am sure of it.

From,
Naomi.

Loving: Olive

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One thing that came from my three years spent in the spa town of Cheltenham was discovering the beautiful shop Olive. Situated just off the high street in the town centre, the window displays of neutral, unique and attractive garments drew me in, and from the first time I stepped inside, I was in love with the place.

Every time I went into town (which was, admittedly, quite a lot) I would go into Olive and admire each item and long for pretty much everything they sold. Of course I never bought any of it, what with living on a student budget, and the stock being so fairly priced, but each Christmas and Birthday I hoped someone would take note of how much I loved the shop and buy me something from there - because I said and I still maintain it to this day that I would happily sport anything sold in Olive. Everything in there is stunning.

Hurrah for Christmas day 2013! Every year, my best friend Bethan comes round after church and we exchange gifts. This year I was a little hungover and she had slept in so neither of us made it to the Christmas day service but she came round anyway and presented me with - among other lovely things - this absolutely beautiful scarf. 

I am in love with this scarf. It is so soft and the colours are perfect. My winter coat is navy blue and so is my hat. Olive had actually posted a photo of a range of these scarves on their Facebook page and I had shared the post on my wall, stating 'Christmas please!' thinking nothing of it, and Bethan - who lives in Cheltenham still - sneakily went into the shop and chose this one for me. 

I miss being able to go into Olive and admire the clothes, but they have a website and a newly opened store in Bristol Cabot Circus which I am eager to visit. They sell a lot of wardrobe staples which is great, because the clothes are good quality and long lasting, as well as some stunning unique pieces that you won't find in Topshop or Zara, so if you are looking for somewhere new to shop then I highly recommend checking out Olive. I'll be bookmarking items for my Birthday in five months time... :)

Being Human - New Year's Resolutions

December is a jam packed month. I love it. There is so much going on and it's always the most exciting time of year for me. There are now two days left of 2013 (what) and now that Christmas is done with, it's time to reflect on the year past and prepare for the new one coming.

Every year I buy myself a new diary and write a list of new year's resolutions in the crisp first page, but this year I have made a start in one of my old journals because I am feeling super organised. I start my new job a week tomorrow(!) and I want everything to go smoothly right from the start.

My new years resolutions are always the same: drink more water, eat more fruit and veg, do more exercise, read more, write more. This used to concern me - I shouldn't have to write these at the start of every year, should I? Surely after one year of keeping these resolutions I should be able to move on and not write them down again, year after year? But then I thought, I am never done with being fit and healthy. I am never done with reading and writing. These things mean a lot to me in my life. We always have room for improvement, and new years resolutions are important because they reaffirm that we are human beings with the drive and need inside of us to get better and achieve things, even if we never reach these goals.

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I see a lot of people on the internet going on about how New Year's resolutions are pointless. A new year shouldn't mean a new start - it's the same day as every other day. But it's not, really, is it? 1st January marks the start of a new year, and the opportunity to start afresh. As human beings we like that; we like to be given that chance, whether we see it through or not.

I remember browsing the shops last January and seeing a whole host of exercise DVDs on offer. Everyone knows after a few weeks of over indulging we try and get into a permanent routine of being fit and healthy, but it doesn't usually last. It made me laugh back then, but I'm considering getting one myself this year as I have avoided going out running for a good two months now. 

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The funny thing is, when it comes to making resolutions and keeping them, the enjoyable part is actually thinking of them and writing them down. Preparing for them. Getting that gym membership, going shopping for new trainers and a sports bra, writing this post, even. Sometimes, none of it comes to anything, but that's just human nature. Nothing changes remarkably when the clock strikes midnight on 31st December every year, but symbolically it does, and that's exciting - that is why we celebrate it every year.

January is a pretty depressing month. Thankfully, this one coming will mark the arrival of my sister's first baby and I am so excited. I hope the joy he/she brings will override the inevitable gloom that January usually brings, and I'll be even more determined to get better at reading, writing and looking after my body. What are your new year's resolutions?