To my readership (if one still exists!):
Yes this blog is still alive, which is more than I can say for its owner (more on that later). So why the long absence? For starters, my two part time jobs have seen me occupied for up to six days week.
My days off were spent going over 18's clubbing for the first and second time, attending cotillion dance rehearsals for two of my friends' debuts, literally burning the letters and photographs of my bestfriend's ex girlfriend in my backyard, and climbing the Sydney Harbour Bridge with my boyfriend on our two year anniversary.
And now, adding to my latest collection of excuses: I have the chicken pox. Sure, this would have been more convenient when I was five, but heck at least I'm not fifty.
With unprecedented fevers, headaches and backaches – I'm going to make this one short.
Most of us have been both the victim and the offender of broken promises. What was originally designed to enact as a verbally contractual agreement in theory, merely provides a false sense of security in practice. Because after all, promises are not guaranteed exempt from being
- drunkenly drawled off
- broken when the only thing that used to hold it together is no longer there i.e. a friendship and/or romance
- shared between two lovers whose first priority is not to keep any secrets from each other
- shared for the benefit of a two-faced friend
- broken under circumstances beyond the control of the promise holder
Reverse the situation and imagine if no one promised to keep anything for you, to turn up here and take you there, to buy you anything, to do something for you – but did it solely on their own accord. How much better would it feel?
This got me to thinking that maybe surprises are like promises spoken out loud. Because promises create expectations, which if aren't satisfied, create disappointment.
