three-oh

Turning 30, A poem by Karina Koot.

Turning 30 is like
turning 29,
only more difficult to pronounce
if you're a non-
native
English speaker.

Only 71 more days until my birthday dudes and lady-dudes! Now, I know you've all been making notes and thinking about what to get me since June 26th of last year because that's how giddy you get at the thought of buying me the perfect present.... buuuuut 

Just in case you're still wondering (hahahaha, I know, silly. But really, just in case you know, you had an accident this year and have been in a coma for months and months and have been eating apple sauce intraveinously and only just awoke and your first thought was HOLY CRAP ONLY 71 DAYS LEFT!! You know.) I have compiled a list of things that I desperately want to know what they look like wrapped up. :

::To the person who will now send me pictures of the following items in wrapping paper: Har har:::

1. A blank, good quality note-/sketchbook. (Moleskine is always good)

2. Drawing Pencils

3. Bill Murray

4. A Holga. It doesn't have to be red. Green or blue or purple or yellow would do nicely as well. Any colour, really, as long as it's a Holga.

5. Film for a Holga.

6. Pretty yarn

7. An Alphonse Mucha print for on my wall

8. Guitar Strings

Did you get all that, or was I going too fast for you? No? Got it? Good. You're welcome.

I know turning 30 is supposed to be a big deal and all but meh. I'm a lucky girl, you know? I don't care about aging and losing my devilish good looks, I don't mind that I can't pull all-nighters anymore without feeling hung-over for a week. I could care less about the grey hairs and the only reason I might dye my hair at some point or another is because I've always wanted to be a fiery red-head like this chick:

But then I'd also want her freckles so yeah, I might just never happen. 

Anyway, expect some more posts about the fact that my twenties are nearly over because I might just feel like reflecting a bit. They were, as the twenties often are, pretty tumultuous.

like, love, want... need

I'm not a materialistic or greedy person (who just chuckled??) but I have a recurring dream. In this dream I am blonde, wear lots of white and work as a permanently smiling hostess on a cruiseship with many colourful colleagues. And whenever I wake up from this dream I can't get a certain cheesy Jack Jones song out of my head. That's not the dream I want to talk about in this post though.

The recurring dream I really want to share with you is the one that leaves me filled with desire, the one that speaks to that very essence of being a woman that resides in every single one of us females. That dream is about luscious, red, red boots.

Red Boots. I WANT them. Badly.

I think I would look simply and immodestly perfect in every situation imaginable if I had on some frantastically awesome red boots.

In fact I'm quite sure the whole escalator incident would not even have happened at all if I had been wearing red boots. I just know they would give their wearer groovy superpowers like the ability to jump great heights and distances while on a moving surface, or the ability to say 'escalator' instead of 'elascator'. I'm quite sure Amelia Earhart was wearing red boots when she first flew a plane, and also utterly positive she was not wearing them on her last flight. I think it has also been researched, perhaps even historically and scientifically proven, that upon leaving the garden of Eden, Eve was granted red boots to help her cope with the unforgiving world and all those children.

Red Boots. I clearly NEED them.

Notice how the red boots are in focus, and the dog is blurry? Do you realise what that means??

 I MUST HAVE RED BOOTS!

Am I being clear on this? I'm not sure I'm making myself clear.

Wow.

Okay, so I thought I'd give this sharing-my-shameless-worldy-desires-with-the-entire-internet thing another shot, since when I last tried it I ended up with a fabulous sewing machine. My blog seems to be my letter to Santa and Santa is a strange and karmic creature of digital nature who finds joy in pleasing ME! You wouldn't believe the size of the smile on my frontispiece (yes, that is a synonym for 'face') right now. I just know this is going to work again. I shall keep you posted on all boot-progress!