Posted in Filipino, friendship, london

The lost art of speaking your mind

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

I should add a disclaimer and say that this will probably be an unpopular post. It will also be an honest one. Recent events in my life have just inspired me to write about something that I’ve been meaning to speak my mind on for a long long time. 

Its my opinion that culturally, Filipinos have always struggled to speak up for themselves. I think in our country we’ve learned to just shut up and get on with things no matter how much we struggle because speaking up never changed anything anyway. In addition, I think we’ve always been afraid of open confrontation. For us, talking to a person about an issue or concern is often seen as being aggressive. 

The result is this passive-aggressive way of “fighting back” wherein we say nothing but we’re secretly fed up and furious, and rather than confronting the person involved, we go around talking to everyone else EXCEPT the person who should have been confronted in the first place.

I see this a lot whenever a group of Filipinos gather, both here in the UK and at home. If John had a problem with Paul, he would talk ABOUT him to every Tom, Dick and Harry but he wouldn’t actually talk TO Paul. Which doesn’t make sense because how would Paul even know there’s a problem if no one tells him?! 

Being honest with another person is scary as hell. You’re making yourself vulnerable, and you’re putting your relationship with that person on the line because you never really know how people will receive your honesty. I get it. Sometimes its easier to brush it under the rug, or vent your frustration by talking to other people and hope that the issue goes away. In the long run though, how healthy do we really think that is? Does it really solve anything?

The thing I like about being in the UK and being exposed to different cultures is that you learn so many things, and one of the most important skills I’ve learned is how to handle difficult conversations and how to resolve a conflict. I don’t just mean at work but in general as well. A little bluntness goes a long way. I used to be afraid of people who wouldn’t think twice about giving their opinion or saying what they really think but I’ve really come to value the people in my life who will say things TO MY FACE rather than talk about me behind my back. 

I don’t mean that we should all jump at the smallest issue and create a fuss. But we need to realise that we are all entitled to say what’s on our minds as long as we respect that the other person has that right too. Imagine if you’re having a conversation and you disagree about something that the other person said. What is so wrong about saying ‘I hear you, I get your side, but my opinion is this and this, what do you think?’ Or when someone has said something hurtful, what’s wrong with saying ‘hey, can we talk about when you said this and this. It just really hurt my feelings and I’d like to know why you said it.’ Or if you don’t like something, just say it. If you need help, don’t pretend to be all-knowing because there is absolutely no shame in admitting that you’re struggling with something. ASK FOR HELP.

We overcomplicate things when we don’t say the things we should at the moment when they should be said. We involve a bunch of people that should never have been involved in the first place because we’re too much of a coward to confront the person we should be confronting. This is all the more true when we’re dealing with friends. 

It is so much harder to admit that a friend has hurt you compared to a colleague or an acquaintance. But true friendship can withstand a little honesty, I think you can only grow as friends if you deal with issues as they arise. I once had exactly 100 minutes of phone conversation with my friend Dengei so we could mend our friendship and now we’ve been close friends for more than 10 years. 

My friend Christine once sent me a really hurtful email when we were 18 or 19 outlining the many ways that I have hurt her and my response was to not confront it and avoid her. Thank goodness our friendship meant enough to her that she initiated a conversation where she explained that all she really intended was for me to know her feelings, not to end our friendship. Its been 12 years since that incident and she was and still is one of my best friends, and we laugh about her “hate mail” from time to time. The strongest friendships I had are ones where I always know where I stand. 

I’ve digressed a little bit. 

Seriously though, one of the things I’ve reflected on this week is about being honest and upfront with other people. I hate that backbiting and gossiping about people behind their back is so entrenched in our culture, and I include myself in that number. The one thing that I try to do though is self-check and self-regulate: I never say anything about a person behind their back that I’m not comfortable saying to their face. If that’s weak, I’m sorry but its all I got. 

So let’s all learn to be a bit more honest and speak our minds as appropriate. We save ourselves a lot of stress, frustration and misunderstanding that way. 

Posted in fitness, Lifestyle, london

5 Life Lessons That I Learned From Muay Thai 

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

We’ve come to the end of the week and despite my busy schedule I managed to squeeze in two muay thai training sessions this week, and I am damn proud of myself *pats myself on the back* 

I really feel the difference between a week where I’ve not trained at all and a week where I’ve trained at least once. You would think I’d be less stressed and less tired when I’m not training but I’ve actually been more tired. Its also interesting to note that I’m also more irritable, less patient and more likely to respond negatively to stress when I don’t workout for the week. I’ve come to realise that the things I learn during muay thai training also translates into life lessons that I can apply in daily life, and its what keeps me balanced and centered. Here are some of the things I’ve learned this week.

1. If you want something bad enough, you’ll find a way to get it.

Training sessions, especially one-to-one sessions, are not cheap. But as my coach says, you’re investing in your health and body. All that money you’re spending on wine and beer and I don’t know, Chinese takeaway could all be put to better use if you save it to invest in training. And honestly, it cost me maybe two or three extra shifts, and maybe a weekend shift. But its so worth it. Its like with anything else in life, you will find a way to achieve the things that are important to you. If you’re not motivated to work hard for something,  you might want to ask whether you really want it and if its something that you should be doing. 

2.The best fighters are also the most intelligent 
I’ve come to a point in my training where I don’t just practice the technique but we also sometimes do touch sparring and drills where I have to find my shots and really think about how I can do the most damage to my opponent. I also have to have the presence of mind to remember to defend against my opponent and to use everything I have to block the other person’s shots. I’m surprised about how much mental activity is involved; it makes training more challenging but also more fun. Its like at work: doing something that mentally stimulates me, such as learning a new procedure or teaching a new starter, are the things that are most rewarding.

3. Anything worth doing is worth doing right

Its not enough to just go through the motions of punching or kicking, you have to do the proper technique and you have to commit to it and give it everything you’ve got. I used to just punch to hit the pad. But my coach said I have to imagine that the pad is an apple, and I want to punch through it to get to the core. I think my punches have really been connecting more ever since we did that little exercise.

So if I’m doing something in life, I’m going to do it the way I punch. I will commit to what I’m doing: ‘just okay’ is not good enough. It has to be right and I have to know that I gave it my best shot.

4. Its what you do when it starts to hurt that matters 
I’ve paraphrased what is apparently a quote from Mohammed Ali when he was asked about how many sit-ups he can do in one sitting. He answered that he doesn’t know because he only starts counting when it starts to hurt. At the end of my training session on Thursday, just when I thought it was over and I was home-free my coach asked me to do 30 sit-ups. And when I’ve finished that after nearly dying, he quoted Mohammed Ali and asked if I had it in me to do 10 more. How in the world do you say no after that?! So I did it. I managed to reach deep into myself and found my last bit of strength to do 10 more, and I was more proud of those 10 sit-ups than anything else I did that day. 

Its like everything else in life. You will get tested, you will face challenges and some of them will seem insurmountable. But that’s when it starts to count. What you do when the going gets rough is the true measure of your strength. So dig deep, and find the will to do just a little bit more.

And finally…

5. Always remember to breathe

Its such a small thing but it makes all the difference. We are encouraged to make sounds during training, and I’ve always felt really self-conscious about it. But I’ve come to realise just how much it helps my breathing. When I’m doing rounds I sometimes forget to breathe, and that’s when I get tired. I have to remember to breathe, slowly, in through the nose and out through the mouth. I’ll be okay if I just remember to breathe and be centered.

When my life is in chaos, both personally and professionally, I sometimes do so much and get so stressed out that I forget to breathe. Its when I stop to calm myself that I’m able to see through the problem to a possible solution. Breathe. It makes all the difference.

Posted in Careers, Nursing

Blood is thicker than water: things I learned from mentoring my sister

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

18 months ago, my sister moved to London to work at the same hospital as I do and I could not have been more chuffed. In the months before she arrived, all I could talk about was my sister and how excited I was for her to join us. And when she did arrive, I went around introducing Arlene to anyone and everyone. For weeks every time I see someone the first words out of my mouth would be “have you met my sister?” Now that would be fine if Arlene loved being the center of attention (like her big sister lol) but she’s not: she’s a bit shy and reserved when it comes to people she doesn’t know well and she doesn’t let people in easily (unlike me, who’s Ms Congeniality). Although we share the same interests, we are as different as two people could be.

I’ve been teaching my sister as far back as when she was still studying at uni. I started my teaching career as a clinical instructor in the Philippines and my sister was one of my students. It was awkward as hell, but also a lot of fun. Of course I had to be careful to be professional and impartial, and for the most part I achieved that. It was also good that my sister was not a problem student; in fact I think that while academically I got better grades, skills-wise and clinical-wise my sister is the better nurse. 

But that was school, where I had authority and she HAD to listen to me. Things are not quite the same when you’re colleagues. 

A couple of months ago, we were so short of practitioners for my speciality that it became imperative for me to train and develop a couple of people who had potential, my sister included. Arlene didn’t think she could do orthopaedics and left to her own devices I don’t think she would have made that choice voluntarily. However, I was always of the opinion that my sister doesn’t give herself enough credit; she is capable of anything if she puts her mind to it, all she needs is confidence. And practice. And perhaps someone to nudge her (some people would say I push but WHATEVER). And so started her career in orthopaedics, which, as everyone knows is my second all-consuming passion (career-wise anyway).

Its been an experience mentoring Arlene in orthopaedics. It felt a lot like supporting a child through a piano recital or something. There’s a reason why they call the operating room a “theatre” because it has all the elements of a performance. The surgeons and the scrub nurses put on gowns, gloves and mask (costumes!), there’s music in the background, and for me even after all these years I find it so exciting. I’m lucky enough to be in a speciality that I genuinely love. And I want my sister to love it as much as I do so I guess sometimes I get a little bit overeager. Here are some of the things that I’ve realised over the past couple of weeks working with Arlene.

There will be arguments.

This is unavoidable. Arlene is the quieter of the two of us but don’t let that deceive you. She’s strong willed and she’s got a mind of her own. So when two really strong personalities come together, clashes are inevitable. Yesterday just in the amount of time it takes to prepare for the surgery, at least three arguments and one semi-shouting match may or may not have occured in the prep room. 

I will become a stage mother.

Like I said, its like watching your kid do a piano recital. You get so anxious, and every time they miss something you feel it. You take criticisms against them personally. I have to watch myself constantly from putting too much pressure on my sister. I constantly have to readjust my expectations so that I don’t get too frustrated. Or you know, try to leave her training to someone else and not get too involved because there is NO WAY I can be detached or impartial if its a combination of Arlene and orthopaedics.

Teaching requires commitment. And you gotta love it. 

This is true of anyone I teach, regardless of whether I’m related to them or not. People don’t realise how much of myself I give when I decide to teach or train someone. Sometimes during my free time I find myself thinking of creative ways to get people to learn, or when I see something on the telly or read something from a book I immediately think about whether its something I can apply as an educator. You spend two hours every day on a one-to-one basis with these people trying to support them, giving them feedback and encouragement, helping them improve…it takes a lot out of you. But I can’t really see myself doing anything else. I’ve always loved to teach. That lightbulb moment when someone finally gets it is worth everything to me.

It will be worth it.

This week my sister scrubbed for a total hip replacement on her own for the first time, and she did marvelously. One month ago she was struggling to even understand the concept; as recently as two weeks ago she could barely muster up enthusiasm for the speciality. Last night she was enthusiastic and excited about it; it was the most animated I’ve seen her since we started this. It felt great to be sharing something that I love doing with someone I love.

At the end of the day, we will still be sisters.


There is something to be said for having a colleague who’s also family. You can always rely on unconditional love from a family member, they’re obligated to love you even when you annoy them to death. Blood is always thicker than water. 

To Arlene, I am so proud of everything you’ve achieved and everything you’re still trying to achieve. Love you shob, please continue to cook me dinner. Lol 

Posted in Books, Reviews

Book Review: Birdsong – Sebastian Faulks

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

When my parents came to visit my sister and I last year, I spent an afternoon at the Imperial War Museum with my father. I could not believe that I’d gone 5 years in London without visiting this museum; I’ve always found the First and Second World War fascinating, the latter even more so after a trip to one of the German concentration camps in 2012. Anyway, the museum has this area where they built a replica of the trenches that became the everday reality of the British troops. Visitors will have the chance to walk through it and try to imagine what life must have been like during those 4 long years of war.

I don’t remember exactly how I felt going through those trenches. I think I may have been too much in a rush to get to the Jewish holocaust memorial in the other floor to really give it serious thought. I never thought about how tragic it must have been for these men, most of them fresh out of university and in an alternate life where peace reigned supreme might have been capable of great things, to have their world reduced so dramatically. I don’t understand war: the terms trench warfare, fronts and lines are terms that I vaguely get. 

What I do know is that wars always end up being a senseless waste of life. Its such a great thing to be able to fight for love of your country, but the more I read about The Great War (World War I as it is known in the UK), the more I think that nothing could have been worth the wipeout of men from both sides. Sebastian Faulks’ Birdsong drives home the facts of  what those men went through, the degradations they subjected themselves to, the experiences that tested the very existence of their humanity.

I don’t know why anyone would classify this book as a love story. I was greatly misled in that sense and in a way, I don’t mind. If this had been another novel of lost love during the war I would have been able to brush it off. But what I really got from reading it was a brutal account of what the men who were there went through. The most touching moments of the novel came not from the main love story but in the stories of friendship and courage among the British soldiers. I was moved by how they tried to achieve normalcy and carry on even though they know that they’ve seen too much to ever lead normal lives again. 

The noise of their laughter roared like the sea in his ears. He wanted it louder and louder; he wanted them to drown out the war with their laughter. If they could shout loud enough, they might bring the world back to its senses; they might laugh loud enough to raise the dead.

I think this book isn’t so much about Stephen Wraysford than it is about the horrors of war and how our understanding of what these men have been through is disproportionate to the gratitude that they are owed.  I’ve heard the word shellshocked before and I never realised where the term came from but really, Sebastian Faulks painted a really clear picture of the psychological effects of having gone through battle after battle, and how even survivors simply existed rather than lived for a long time afterwards.

Essentially, the theme of the book is that life goes on and you will find a way to carry on. The author also suggests that everyone has a built in survival instinct. At the point in your life where death becomes imminent you will connect with the world and find a reason to live. I think that’s a very beautiful concept. I like Sebastian Faulks’ prose, I find it very lyrical.  

The end scene of Stephen Wraysford’s life was beautifully done. I won’t give it away but its reminiscent of the Sainsbury’s Christmas ad in 2015, which still reduces me to a sobbing mess each time I see it. It will reduce war to at its most basic reality: those enemies are fathers, sons, uncles, husbands, lovers, friends…just like you they had dreams, passions, ambitions. It is the war that made monsters of men I think. I find myself thanking God that I live mostly in a peaceful time but do I really? Have any of the wars really ended? I don’t think war will ever truly end until we learn something from each one that’s ever been fought. And we haven’t. Therein lies the reason why novels like these are still so resonant and relevant. 

BBC did an adaptation of this novel starring Eddie Redmayne which has now gone on my list of things to watch. Also, a similar book on The Great War was written by Vera Brittain called ‘Testament of Youth’, although this one’s more autobiographical. 

Enjoy, bookworms 

Posted in Brexit, Careers, london

Someone’s always saying goodbye…

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

Today I say goodbye to another one of my friends. I’ve always been opposed to the idea that you don’t go to work to make friends. I mean, if you’re anything like me (a little bit of a workaholic) you spend at least 37.5 hours a week at work. You have to at least try and like the people you work with. In that respect more than anything I’m lucky to be working where I’m working, because I’ve met people along the way that I can genuinely call my friends.

However, its the nature of jobs in central London to have such a high turnover rate, especially when it comes to the nursing profession. Its just too expensive to be living or commuting to London, so when opportunities come elsewhere most people jump at the chance. Add Brexit to that mix (and the unstable value of the pound versus the Euro), well, let’s just say I’ve said goodbye to far too many people in the past year. At least this last one is just leaving the hospital, not the country.

Work is going to be a much more lonelier place without her. She’s the type who won’t say much but who will speak up when it matters. She will listen to me and support me in my endeavours. On the other hand, she will let me know if there’s something I could be doing to improve things. They say you’re led to friends who will help you grow; in addition I think we are naturally attracted to people who are the opposite of us. I tend to be overexcited and sometimes overly optimistic, and most of my friends are calm, grounded people who will slow me down in a good way. Mostly, they’re people who will always be there even if its just to listen.

I hate goodbyes. I’m also not a big fan of change, however necessary it may be. Sometimes I wish I could live in an everlasting present where things would just stay the way they are. But. People have to move on to wherever life and opportunities take them, and we can only try to keep that connection despite the distance. 

To all my friends who have left or are leaving, you take a little bit of me each time with you and I will really miss you guys. 😭

Posted in Books, Reviews, Young Adult

Book Review: Finding Audrey by Sophie Kinsella

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

I see no shame in an almost-30 year old reading young adult books. Partly because in some ways I’m perpetually stuck in adolescence, but mostly because there are still things we can learn from them.

Finding Audrey is a lighthearted book that deals with some heavy issues. Its never quite clear what kind of trauma Audrey went through although its implied that she was bullied by some of the more popular girls and the school did nothing about it. She developed general and social anxiety as well as depression because of it. She hasn’t been out of the house for a year and she wears dark sunglasses everywhere because looking into people’s eyes without a barrier give her palpitations. 

Most people underestimate eyes. For a start, they’re powerful. They have range. You focus on someone thirty metres away, through a whole bunch of people, and they know you’re looking at them. What other bit of human anatomy can do that?

Anyway, she’s in therapy and she’s taking baby steps to get better. She meets her brother’s friend Linus who somehow gets past her barriers by finding ways to talk to her that won’t make her anxious. They start off with writing notes and then she eventually gets the courage to buy a mobile phone so they can text.

I was skeptical about this at first because I though that Ms Kinsella will try to make us believe that love (teenage love at that) will somehow magically cure mental illness. Because that’s what it is: an illness. Chemicals in your body are actually causing you to have these thoughts so its useless for people to tell you to just snap out of it. People who are living with this illness are aware these thoughts are unreasonable but they can’t control it, not without help. So no, I don’t think there’s a love affair out there that is more powerful than clonazepam. Or prozac.

But Sophie Kinsella dealt with that in a nice way. The love story was almost an aside, an addition to the journey that Audrey took to find herself again. In fact, the bulk of this book was made up of Audrey’s family, who are hilarious. There’s a fun side story about how parents suddenly forget how to talk to their kids once they reach puberty and that’s something we can all relate to. How many times as teenagers did we think or say the words ‘you don’t understand!’ in relation to our parents? Almost every damn day. I think teenagers are the most selfish people in the world, and the most self-centred. Thank goodness we mostly grow out of it.

Anyway, this is a fun book to read. There were lots of laugh out loud moments. I gave it a three-star in Goodreads because it tended to be too abrupt on some of the developments and I feel like nothing was really resolved. And yes, as much as I know love its not the next big cure for depression I can’t help but wish we got a little more of the love story. But i really enjoyed going through this journey with Audrey. 

Posted in london, Music

The day I became a willing Victim: The Killers at BST Hyde Park 2017

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

Disclaimer: major fangirling ahead.

You reach a certain age where its just ridiculous to queue up early and wait 12 hours for a band to come on, boiling and sweltering underneath the unusually blistering London sunshine, no food, minimal water due to fear of peeing and losing your spot…I am delighted to say that I have not reach that age yet. At least, not when it comes to The Killers.

The only birthday present I asked from my sister and pseudo-sister was that they queue up with me at 7am so that we can be first in line when The Killers headline BST Hyde Park. And bless their heart, they were there with me right from the start, and they weren’t even as big a fan as I was. All they asked for in return was a Sausage McMuffin from McDonald’s. We came prepared with fully charged phones (on airplane mode), powerbanks, Kindles, playing cards and anything we can think off to pass the time. I even bought a super cool chair from Amazon that looked like an ordinary picnic mat but actually has like a stand so that its like an improvised beach chair.

I bought the chair for my friend Katie, the coolest mum-to-be I know. Almost 6 months pregnant and she was willing to try and make it through the day and watch The Killers with me. She was sensible about it, she did her research and did everything possible to enjoy while keeping the baby’s safety a priority. She never complained about the discomfort, although I’m sure she must have been worried. I know I was quite anxious. Especially since to my everlasting surprise, we managed to nab the best spot in the world right up front, leaning against the barrier with no hindrance to our view of the stage.

Katie, Cat and Me. 😘
My sister Arlene, my adopted sister Romelyn, me Cat and Katie
Best spot in the house!
Calmly reading her Kindle while waiting for The Killers. #pregnancygoals

I have to say I’m so happy to share this with not only my sisters but also two of my closest friends, Katie and Caterina. Cat has seen them in Milan and from the start, she offered to go somewhere safe with Katie if the crowd gets too much because she said I deserved to be up front enjoying myself. She wouldn’t even allow me to feel guilty about it. Do I have the coolest friends or what? Spoiler: we made it through the entire show through sheer will, determination and by working together. BEST SEATS IN THE HOUSE.

And the wait was worth it.

From the start of the set, The Killers electrified a crowd of 65,000 who had waited the whole day to see them. I’ve been to concerts like these before but I have never felt such engagement from the crowd. Most of them knew every word of the lyrics, and almost everyone could belt out a well-known line. The Killers knew what their fans wanted and they delivered hit after hit after hit. It was a setlist designed to please the fans rather than to promote an album, and it was awesome. 

And Mr. Flowers? Well he was the consummate showman. Strutting out with a pink leather jacket, well, the lyrics says it all: ladies and gentlemen, you’re looking at The Man. But apart from the strut, the swagger, the charisma and that voice, it was also plain as day that he was so damn happy to be there.

Ive got news for you baby, you’re looking at the man.
I don’t mind if you don’t mind, cause I don’t shine if you don’t shine
When every one’s lost, the battle is won with all these things that I’ve done.
He admitted that Read My Mind was his favourite part of the night, got the crowd through the rousing chorus of ‘I’ve got soul but I’m not a soldier’ and embodied Mr Brightside during the night’s final song. You know you’ve achieved something when you don’t have to sing the lyrics of your band’s signature song because the crowd is doing it for you.

It was awesome. I have never wished so badly for the night to go on forever but all good things must come to an end. But I have enough memories to last me a lifetime. I am now and forever will be a Victim. Thank you Brandon, thank you Killers, you were worth the wait. 

​​

Posted in LGBT, Lifestyle, relationships, romance

Love Wins Part 2: The Wedding Ceremony

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

I was and always will be a sucker for weddings.

There is something about it that fills me with so much hope. In this world where you can barely get a decent date, it seems like a miracle to me that someone could actually find a partner to share their life with. And in a way, Daim and Tom’s marriage is nothing short of a miracle. 

I’ve already talked about how happy I am that we have become so enlightened as a society such that two men getting married is now almost as commonplace as a wedding between a man and a woman. And I also think its fantastic that through sheer chance, Daim and Tom’s wedding happened to fall on Pride Weekend in the UK. Everytime I see them as a couple, I always think #lovewins. I’m sure it could not have been easy for them to get to this point, and while their story is not mine to tell, I know that they’ve made a lot of compromises along the way to become the partners that they are now. I have no words to describe how happy I am for them.

There were two things that struck me about this wedding. Two things other than the fact that everything was so gorgeous and meticulously planned. First was how accepting everyone was of the fact that this was an occasion of two men getting married. No one remarked upon it, it wasn’t an issue throughout the day, and we’re talking about two cultures (British and Filipino) who are quite conservative and strict about sexuality. But today, it wasn’t about any political correctness or equality, it was simply that everyone was there because they loved them both and they would love whoever it was that either decided to marry.

The second thing was how much the two cultures were equally represented and celebrated. I’ve always thought there was a great divide between the two cultures that no amount of love could ever span and the most you can hope for in an interracial marriage was that one partner would tolerate the other. But today, not only were those two cultures accepted, they were also celebrated. I could not stop a tear from falling when Tom was given the traditional Filipino blessing by Damier’s mum. Or when the person officiating the ceremony told everyone to stand up to greet the bride and groom because this was a Filipino culture. There was a wedding breakfast which is traditionally British (and confusing to me because this was at 4 in the afternoon) and a hog roast during the ball which is the closest thing to the traditional Filipino lechon that you can get in England. 

Their families all tried to get on and interact. The naturally reticent and shy Filipinos were welcomed by the more sociable British. The children were fast friends and playing together by the end of the weekend.  They both had a mixture of British and Filipino friends. It was absolutely beautiful. And I think this really parallels the relationship between these two men. You could not find two people who are more different, but rather than loving each other despite their differences, they love each other becaue of it. Damier’s certainly never voluntarily set foot in a musueum before Tom. And before Damier, I’m sure Tom had rice with his meals about once a month. 

At the end of the day, its not about all the ways in which they are different, but about how they grow together to merge those differences and achieve the kind of partnership that will last. I know this wedding is visually and aesthetically stunning, but I think it would still have been beautiful even if it were in a barn full of hay and horse manure simply because of the joy and love that filled the occasion. 

I love coming to weddings because they fill me with hope. There are things that will last, that will stand the end of time. There is still room for the kind of love that makes you a better person because of it. The kind of love that breaks barriers of race and gender, this is the kind celebrated here today because as Maya Angelou said:

Love recognises no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to its destination full of hope.

There is so much happiness going around the room today that I have not stopped crying since the wedding started. I am so so happy for these two men. They deserve every happiness and every good thing that’s coming their way. Congratulations Tom and Daim! 

Posted in Books, Reviews

Review: Black Water Lilies – Michel Bussi: MIND BLOWN.

Posted on by Miss Blabbaholic

 

Its 1 am and I’ve just stayed up late to finish this fantastic crime/mystery book. As I said, I recently joined the Armchair Murder Book Club at Waterstones‘, which meets every first Wednesday of the month. You can imagine my panic on Tuesday night when I realised that the meeting was the following evening and I haven’t even started the damned book yet. Nonetheless, I decided to make a start so I could at least have something to contribute to the conversation. At the last meeting, some people didn’t finish and it didn’t really make that much of a difference because there wasn’t really a big reveal to spoil. I honestly thought the case would be the same for this book.

WRONG.

This book had one of the best plot twists I’ve ever read in my life. I don’t know if its because I haven’t read a good mystery book lately, but this one just blew. my. mind.

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What?! 

To my everlasting regret, I unfortunately learned of the plot twist during the meeting when I was still 30% into the book, but my mind was still blown. I was speechless for a good 2 minutes, which for me is a long time. I could not wrap my head around it.

The Blurb

Three women lived in a village. One was eighty year old living in a mill overlooking the river. The second was a pretty school teacher trapped in a loveless marriage. The third was a child progeny with the gift of painting. All three were trapped in the picturesque village of Giverny, famous for being the inspiration for Monet’s paintings. All three longed for escape.

Three women lived in a village. “The first one was mean, the second a liar, the third and egotist”. For thirteen days, the gates of Giverny were open for a possible escape but only one would make it out. The third woman was the most intelligent, the second one was the most cunning, the first woman was the most determined. 

This is a riddle solved against the background of the brutal murder of a prominent businessman who had a passion for Monet and an even greater passion for women.

Things are not what they seem.

The Review

I am not going to give away any plot twists. Suffice it to say that during our book club meeting, one of the other readers pointed out that in the hands of a less brave author, this book would have been written very differently. It takes courage and talent to have written it the way it was written; the plot was tight and there were no glaring holes that would make you say “but what about the time when…?” when the big reveal was finally unveiled.

The story generated a lot of discussion during the book club, even from me and I didn’t even finish the damn thing. I was kicking myself for the entire hour and a half for not finishing this book. Ultimately though, I can’t really say that my reading experience was less satisfactory because of the fact that I’ve already been spoiled. I read it with the understanding and  perspective of someone who already knew what was coming so I could look at certain plot lines and see exactly how the author cleverly placed red herrings deliberately designed to mislead us, but actually the clues to the real story were there all along.

This book is ultimately about the chances you take and the tragedy of a life that is not fully lived. I can’t really say much without unintentionally spoiling it for everyone. However, as tragic as the circumstances may seem, I find upon finishing it that there was no other way for the story to have ended and that things happened exactly as they were meant to. All the victims were victims of their own actions or inaction; one of my fellow book club members pointed out that it was hard for her to sympathise with any of the characters, and I agree. The characters will annoy you to the point of wanting to give up on the book, but DO NOT GIVE UP ON THE BOOK  because the payoff is worth it.

The writing was very fluid. I tend to be biased against books that have been translated from a different language, especially French, because sometimes the translation is too stiff and something inevitably gets lost in translation. However, this was so well done that I forgot that this book wasn’t originally written in English. The prose was seamless and easy to follow. Michel Bussi was very descriptive (almost too descriptive) that it really created a nice atmosphere for the story to unfold. I now want to visit the town of Giverny and see Monet’s pond for myself.

Armchair Murder Book Club

Kudos to the book club moderators at Waterstones’ for the awesome choice of books. I can’t wait for the next one. Readers in London, if you’re interested in joining like-minded individuals geeking out over books, check out the Waterstones website for events at the store nearest you. Usually, the book clubs are at the flagship store in Piccadilly, my happy place, 5 floors of bookworm heaven. There’s free wine involved if you want to check it out. Our next book is The Collin Case by Ferdinand Von Schirack.

Good night and good morning bookworms!