Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone

This song was playing in my mind the whole time I was writing ‘Wet Soaked Love’

Funny how it brings back flashes of  ‘Notting Hill’ every single time (most of them involving Spike)

If you haven’t seen the movie, you’re definitely missing out. Jot that down on your Bucket List 😉

It’s wonderful how a few words sung beautifully over and over managed to capture completelythe poignant emotions of a longing heart and an affectionate soul.

Here’s to wishing we’d be lucky enough to find it even for one fleeting moment ❤

“Ain’t No Sunshine”
by Bill Withers

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
It’s not warm when she’s away.
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
And she’s always gone too long
Anytime she goes away.

Wonder this time where she’s gone
Wonder if she’s gone to stay
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
And this house just ain’t no home
Anytime she goes away.

And I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know,
Hey, I ought to leave young thing alone
But ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone

Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
Only darkness every day.
Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
And this house just ain’t no home
Anytime she goes away.
Anytime she goes away.
Anytime she goes away.
Anytime she goes away.



Wet Soaked Love

You’re cruising down the road in your beat up old ’69 Mustang. The wind blows your hair every which way, and you laugh as the wild silky locks get right in your face. You’re free, joyous and so full of life. The smell of the sea stays with you. The ocean is long gone, you’ve gone too far. The scent lingers on your fingertips, on your lips.

Gravel crunches with every mile your angry rubber tires eat up. The road is empty; it’s just you and the handsome summer sky – taunting you, daring you to come and catch him.

So you smile wickedly, and shoot off towards the sun. He smiles and listens and charms you with his bright light and hot, hot promises. Just when you think you were one screeching kiss closer, he’d darken little by little until all that’s left of the chase and your loving disposition is a little fleck of illumination hiding behind clouds looking so forlorn you had to tighten your lips and close your eyes before the tears slipped out.

Still, you ride on. Wishing, hoping if you held on for just a little bit more, the heat of the passionate sun would wash over you again. Waiting, waiting for the light – the bane of your existence – to come back and grab you till you take leave of your senses again. But summer… he is gone.

The summer sky? He’s moved on to another sweet little place. One he’d devastate after luring her in and making sure that little world revolved around him and his blue eyes. Or maybe this time he’ll stay? Maybe for her, he won’t ever leave again?

The first drop falls. You feel it on your cheek. You reach up to wipe it away just to find the clouds have opened and you’re soaked right down to your soul.

But it’s okay, because the rain helps…

You stay silent for you’re alone. The road? It was an adventure; a celebration of your love and freedom. But now, as misery pours down and burns every shred of clarity, the road is just another thing to leave behind. Another thing you can’t leave your mark on. Something you’ll always long for but won’t ever get to keep.

But it’s okay, because the rain helps…

It is a poignant reminder of how quickly your life has been ruined, how easy your fragile heart has shattered. Perhaps dark clouds and endless nights are all you could trust in this world? In a twisted little way, the head of disappointment never lets you down. Welcome or uninvited, it barges into your life with all the grace and subtlety of a hurricane.

Heartbreak… It is as constant as change. Nothing is permanent. Nothing ever is.

And rain just keeps pouring down. The rain – with his cold, cold fingers and his pungent, earthy whiff. He soothes your wounds and eases your pain. The smell, so loving, makes you smile. It is him. It is new. It’s a start.

And you ask yourself how. How have you not appreciated the cold before?

Perhaps longing for sunshine always after the rain was a grave miscalculation. Maybe it’s the other way around.

Maybe the one good thing to come out of it is the truth that when light abandons you, the clouds and the rain – he’s right there. And he’s waiting, waiting…

You grin, the twinkle creeps back into your eyes. And him? The rain that has always longed for you to spare him a glance, a word, anything? He rewards you with a magnificent gust of wind and the sweet breeze of new beginnings.

And you ride on. Going, going, gone…



Lessons from Mel Gibson

"I'm a bitch, I'm a mother, I'm her brother... 
It's a charmer as I volumize my hair, I am not aware." 
- Mel Gibson, What Women Want


A mad scientist friend offers you a chip that would allow you to know what the people you’re talking to are thinking. The catch: you can’t turn it off. Do you accept the chip?   – Daily Prompt

It’s tempting, obviously. But I have a hard time keeping up with my own thoughts and expectations as it is. Peace of mind is a rare and valuable commodity available only to a select few.

I would probably go crazy since I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I am a bit of a people-pleaser. There’s just no way I’d be able to stay true to myself if I knew what every single person thought about the way I dress, talk, walk or even breathe.

Sure, I’d love to know who my real friends are and who appreciates me only when they need help with a project. And trust me, I would kill to know which colleague has a secret crush on me and what my boyfriend honestly thinks about what I’m wearing.

But really, if there’s one great thing life has to offer – it’s spontaneity and a bit of mystique now and again.

I wouldn’t exchange the thrill of not knowing if he’s going to kiss me or not for anything in the world. Or that delicious nervousness you feel right down to your toes when you’re talking on the phone and you’re wondering when your next date would be? Pure gold.

One thing I learned from the amazing (and absolutely charming) Mel Gibson is that uncertainty and a little craziness (okay, maybe a lot of Lethal Weapon-type shit) in your life is good.

Another lesson I learned – this time from What Women Want – is that it is absolutely impossible to understand a person by simply tapping into their thoughts. You know it and I know it. We’ve all done some pretty wonderful stuff which we initially thought were stupid, haven’t we?

The mind runs a commentary on everything and the heart listens, yes, 
 but it still does pretty much whatever the hell it wants to in the end!

We don’t really care what logic tells us. Being reasonable doesn’t mean anything in the heat of the moment. And let’s face it, those times when we acted on instinct alone and threw the rulebook out the window? Those were the absolute best moments of our lives.

And so on that note – I end my rant along with a very inspiring quote from the dashing Nick Marshall :

"What's the difference between a wife and a job? 
After 10 years, a job still sucks."


See ya babes! 😉

Being Kind or Kinda-Being-a-Busybody?

To a lot of people, - myself included - kindness is defined by being 
generous with one's efforts, words or even material things without 
expecting anything in return.

In this writing challenge, we were encouraged to share the details of our last act of kindness. Pondering this, I was thrown for a loop because I couldn’t really say if what I did last qualifies as being kind or plain disrespectful for meddling with other people’s business.

See, my ex-boyfriend was fast getting a reputation for being a stinking womanizer. In fact, even after we broke up and he had another girlfriend, he would still come by and chat me up or walk me to my classes. I was vastly uncomfortable with that and so I told him so. Afterwards, he settled for sending me flirty text messages which I, of course, ignored.

A few weeks later, his girlfriend, Eva – who was also the chick he cheated on me with, sent a ‘friend request’ my way via Facebook. To be fair, she was an acquaintance so I thought it would be rude to snob her. Before long, she started sending me friendly messages and I found she was really quite a nice person, ex-boyfriend-drama notwithstanding. And yes, we became friends.

I found out she hadn’t really known my ex had a girlfriend when he started going out with her. So I believed her and thought, yeah whatever. I mean, I can’t really be mad at her forever and if there was anyone at fault, it was my ex for being such a bastard blah blah…

About a month later, I saw the guy holding hands with another girl at the mall. At first, I thought hey, it’s not my business anymore so I didn’t say anything to Eva, though she told me that night that she has a feeling he’s been cheating on her. I listened but stayed quiet.

The next time I saw my ex, it was at a restaurant and he was kissing a different chick! I was angry, and frankly a little insulted because this schmuck obviously had no respect for women whatsoever. In a huff, I called Eva and told her what I saw. She cried and asked me to come over so I did. We had to go through two pints of ice cream before she could even start feeling a little bit better.

Of course, as I made my way home, I felt a little sick to my stomach for telling her and upsetting her so much. I know this is stupid but it’s just another one of those things you can’t control, I guess.

I have to admit though, I also felt happy and relieved ’cause I thought I’ve accomplished something by helping my friend break free of the dark cloud that was my ex. That was quickly blown to smithereens though, when she told me she got back together with him two days later and yep, you guessed it, he promised to change and be a better man for her.

 I don’t know why I was even surprised when I saw him five days later with another girl hanging off his arm.




Is your favorite color anything but pink?
Do you make a habit of keeping your fingernails neat and clean?
Do flats and kicks dominate your shoe rack?

Like pigs – girls have been herded and lumped into one particular place since time immemorial. Before, it was the kitchen…

Not that I really mind spending some time in there but, boo hoo!

Now, it’s one particular mind-numbing stereotype that makes me grit my teeth in annoyance every single time.

So, 4 out of 5 guys agree that girls:

 are über-sensitive
 cry about the smallest things
 whine about getting sweaty and dirty outside the bedroom, of course
 expect to always be taken to expensive restaurants
 love shopping more than anything else in the world
 turn into jealous bitches at the slightest provocation
 all adore 'chick flicks'
 talk and talk and talk about themselves
 have weird eating habits when they're out on dates
 go out with playboys and jerks in the hopes of screwing 'fixing' them
 crave attention
 all get together to talk about 'feelings and shit'
 nag about weddings and babies more than anything else

Of course there are stereotypes for guys, too – but let’s not go there.

Not today, anyway… *evil grin*

So to give those people who just love to stereotype a slap in the face, I have decided to make a list of what some girls (mainly, my humble self) would do or not do compared to your “average gal.”


 choose 'Gone in 60 Seconds' over 'The Notebook' any day
 not insist on watching romantic movies. 'Lethal Weapon', maybe... 
  'Titanic'? Not so much
 have a lot of fun just staying home doing regular stuff with you
 not constantly ask if they look fat or (God forbid!) 'lumpy'
 rather grab pizza instead of tiny servings of pretentious food
 never take a joke seriously and hold it against you for 
  the next 5-10 years
 not change the way they laugh when you're around 
  (in other words - if you don't like it, sod off)
 say exactly what they mean and not twist it into words only 
  dogs could understand
 not bitch at you for taking too long to text back
 not hesitate to tell you when you're being an obnoxious asshole
 rather go trekking instead of getting mani-pedis
 prefer staying home and cooking as opposed to dressing up for a 
  fancy dinner (most of the time)
 never nag or talk at you 'cause they know what that's like and it sucks
 not bug you 24/7 to 'open up' about everything when that 
  obviously annoys the hell out of you
 not expect you to be 'sweet and perfect' all the darn time 
  (it's a bit sickening really)
 not answer your questions in a completely vague and slightly 
  stupid manner
 never cheat on you with another guy just 'cause he's a better listener
 be okay to just be in the sidelines every now and then
 let you make up your own mind about the relationship in your own time. 
  'Desperate and needy' is NOT a good look for anybody, sweetie.

And there you have it. A comprehensive list of what some girls would  that  most girls wouldn’t and vice versa.

So chickie, are you some girls or most girls?


See ya babes! 😉


Hi! I’m Ari and I am a frustrated shopaholic. Yes, you read that right.

And no, I am not a mythical character.


Before I let you in on my cheapest, darkest secrets –I’m gonna have to make sure you understand completely who you’re dealing with here.

What exactly is a frustrated shopaholic? Well darlings, I am the down-to-Earth version of Emily from The Devil Wears Prada (I mean that literally. I’m a hundred bucks away from being dirt poor ha.ha.ha) and the long lost twin of your look-for-something-cute-under-ten-dollars mother.

Yeah, I’m talking ‘bout you, girl…


Don’t get me wrong though, I am honestly not the sort of woman who just breezes past you with her Gucci handbag, looking like a model and smelling like a magazine.

I’m that girl you see turning her nose up at flowy skirts and pretty, clingy tops on display at the mall and acting like I’m “soooo above that” so others won’t know I’m dying inside ‘cause I can’t afford them.


BUT! Just ’cause I can’t buy it, doesn’t mean I don’t still get to wear it. How? I take note of the style and if it looks good on me – I go out to find a more affordable (and sometimes even cuter) version.

Truth be told; I, too dream of chic, hip dresses that float around my ankles and billow out in waves with every skippin’ step I take. I weep over beautiful, beautiful little purses that are just big enough for my make up (fine, I mean junk food) and small enough to look absolutely adorable. And yes, damn it – my mouth does foam over the highest high heels I know I will never ever get to wear. (Ever!)

So there you go! I think we’ve established we have the exact same wet dream every single starless night, and that is Ian Somerhalder. Just kidding – shopping.

It doesn’t matter what you’re lusting after – a new Marc Jacobs bag, Chanel boots, or maybe a pair of red hot Converse. The point is we are all obsessed with pretty things that cost way too much. And that’s not even the problem. The real problem here is how we have lost sight of the whole point of shopping and looking good.

Shopping is a glorious phenomenon. You shouldn’t feel guilty about it, so stop thinking you have to spend a thousand bucks on a damn thong! Buying yourself something (or some things, whatever) should make you happy. It’s an almost euphoric experience – if, and only if, you do it right sister!

But now, what do we have getting shoved down our throats by the society? A bunch of chicks on Instagram posting photos they stole from Louis Vuitton, slapped a filter on and voila! They are fabulouuus! Not.


I don’t know who it is exactly that started the trend that if it ain’t Prada, it ain’t pretty.

Girls, if it’s pricier than your college education, meals and transpo included – IT IS NOT WORTH IT!
(PS: If you’re one of those gals who had a year-round limo service, substitute “y” for the price of gas)

Look, say what you want but I swear to you right here and now, I am not just saying these things ‘cause I can’t afford Versace gowns…



I’m putting this up because so many women out there are letting themselves get defined by how much their outfits cost when at the end of the day, all we really want is to look good and feel better about ourselves.

Gorgeous dresses and stylish tops CAN be found outside the four walls of Prada, ya know?

Trust me ladies, pissing away your trust fund on two articles of clothing is going to make you feel like stabbing something with a fork in the long run.

So if you’re still sitting there scoffing at me, hear this: Men don’t give a damn who you’re wearing.
(See: Chandler Bing Who are you wearing? You look fabulous!)


Hello? They don’t care what famous designer or expensive brand is printed on the tag of your blouse. Heck, most of them probably think Dolce & Gabbana are some damn cartoon characters. Stop worrying so much; it’s not like anybody’s going to demand you show them the receipts or else!

Honestly, I got most of what’s in my closet for less than $10 and nobody’s ever given me grief about said clothes’ pricing. Why, you ask? Because they know I won’t take their crap and I know I look good in whatever the heck I’m wearing because hey, why else would I buy it?

Bottom line? Hang tags are hidden for a reason. Don’t be a pushover who just goes along with what everybody else is into right now even if it means not being able to afford food for at least a week. It doesn’t matter if you shop in thrift stores or buy secondhand stuff on eBay as long as you feel confident that you are rocking those $4 jeans.


Oh, and if you’re wondering about the title, see the movie Serendipity – John Cusack is abs adorbs!

See ya babes! 😉