The ‘Not Enough/Too Much’ issue of love.

Breakups are the ideal time for self-reflection and a whole lotta talking. Personal growth – or so they say. I usually just translate it to a lot of ‘self-care’ instead. Which pretty much translates to binging (drinks, fastfood and Netflix) the memories and pain away. Brutal but effective. There always comes a point, however, when

Too cute to function!

Don’t you love those couples who seem to speak their own language? Full of inside jokes that aren’t funny to anyone, but has them unexpectedly bursting with laughter. Idioms no one gets. Words no one understands. A world of their own? I know. I hate them too.Unless I am in that couple.Then it’s the goddamn

Sportsloving by proxy

You know how they always say that dogs look like their owners? (Or, if you’re the mean kind, owners look like their dogs) It’s hilarious. Afghan hound owners rocking the same hippie hairstyle as their canine. English bulldog lovers with similarly scrunched up snouts. Dainty but feisty chihuahas with knitted sweaters, like their shrill-voiced yappy

Barbie-Perfection in Gross-land

Do any of you ever feel like they might be slightly more insane than the average person in some regards? Because boy, am I feeling like that right now. Again. I’m too lazy to check how many blogs I start in a similar fashion, but I’m betting it’s a lot. Todays topic? Sounds. Or more

Reasons to Love

I read a blog today on ‘But, she was fierce’ who found herself in bed with a guy who asked her what she liked about him. Only to find that she couldn’t answer the question. Not easily, or effortlessly or relatively quickly, anyway. It was an eye-opener for me. (Yay, thanks to Bosssybabe, Larney and

Choosing Happiness over Strength

Now that I feel myself becoming happier by the day (literally, the upward curve is insane!) – I’ve taken some time on reflecting how I got to be where I am now, and how I prevented myself from getting here a lot sooner. These types of reflections – where you honestly and critically look at

Project boyfriend – status: acquired.

I was subtly notified last night that yesterdays post – accusing my brand-spanking new lover of potentially turning me into a Zoë-shaped ice cube was NOT the best way to introduce my new boyfriend to the blogging world. Apparently abandonment and hypothermia are not too indicative of true love and intense caring. Whoops! Apparently that’s

No more Cinderella-dating!

Woohoo!There’s a (bit of) light at the end of the tunnel!Sort of. I guess. Maybe. A little.Ok, probably not, but for now – still a yay moment:No more Cinderella dating! The Lockdown Curfew here in the Netherlands (no one allowed outside between 21:00 and 04:30) has officially been cancelled today as a decision from a

Cinderella Dating

Throughout the years…I’ve always considered myself an avid gamer. Not an intense, over the top, fully dedicated supergamerfanatic, but I’ve clocked a LOT of hours behind the screens of my different games. And when it comes to my gaming, regardless of the amount of hours booked, I’ve always been the ‘casual’ type. Most games come

Tinder Tales – A case of the Roy

So.It turns out I’m a total name-ist when it comes to dating, hahaha. Or at least, when it comes to my current Tinder-swiping behaviors. When asked to describe my (physical) taste in men I usually fall back on the silly description ‘a boyish, slender, boy-next-door type, you know, Shawn Mendes-ish-y with great hair’. Too specific?