Text me when you get home

Drunk girls in bathrooms are the most empowering and supportive people on the planet and we should all be more like drunk girls in bathrooms,  states ancient wisdom. However, the myths and legends about women hating other women have also been around for ages. Let’s just say that female relationships can be a bit confusing:


Basically, you can’t have a spice-girls-knock-off band, which most of us have joined at some point in life, without a little hair pulling and nail scratching.

Back in the days, the sisterhood was glued together by matching bracelets,  sleep-overs with practical witchcraft and teaming up against Regina, the common enemy. Now it’s more about Sunday brunches, Happy Hour Martinis and regretful dating decisions… But your friend shouting “Text me when you get home” from across the street after the stormy night out, reminds you that what matters hasn’t changed. We are there for each other. We care. And we might make out, depending on how full is the moon and how empty is the bottle of rose.


In other words. Find your tribe. Love them hard.



Polaroid Picture Frame: https://www.tuxpi.com/photo-effects/photo-paper


Got robbed, moved to a new country and started a new job – all in 24 hours

Winson Green Prison is what I’m seeing through my window, as I am sitting here, at my desk, ready to type. While it’s quite intense to live just across the street from those large marble walls, wire fences and watchtowers, that’s not where I got robbed a few days ago…

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You might know that I have moved to a new country before. This time, however, I found myself in a new city with no phone, no money, no credit card, and no family or friends around.

So yes…  I did shed a tear. Well, maybe a few. Okey okey … I might have cried myself to sleep.

Fast forward a few hours:  I woke up in a dark room, being all ….

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Where am I…? What’s happening…? Whose scull is this…?

 Oh yes, right… it’s my first day at the new job.

Finding the office with no knowledge of the city, no GPS, no Uber, and absolutely no sense of direction, required some old-school map drawing.

I still haven’t got myself a new phone, relying on strangers to tell me the time, to show the right direction or to point out that I have tooth paste stuck in my hair.

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Jokes aside, it is terrifying to be so helpless. Yet it did make me immensely grateful for friends and family who have my back. It was also a very needed reminder not to take for granted things like being able to buy food in a supermarket. Seriously, guys, I almost teared up in that aisle of canned beans…

And with this “Beast from the East” outside (which, apparently, isn’t a reference to Vladimir, but rather the British media’s code for snow storm), I just wish that everyone had a warm blanket and a full belly…


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Let’s be kind to one another…..

PROS and CONS of moving to a new country again, and again, and….

I call it globe-trotting. They call it commitment issues. I call it opportunism. They are calling the police on me. Yes, it might look like I am on the run from the Russian Mafia. Well, it’s because I am. But that’s the whole other story.

From Lithuania to the US, then to the UK, then to France, to Malaysia, to Germany, to South Korea, to Vietnam, to Japan, to Belgium… And here, once again, I find myself in the same position – perching on top of the suitcase in an attempt to close the zip.

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So here are some re-occorring PROS and CONS that come with changing the home address every six months or so.


Nothing is too familiar

Moving to a new place turns me into a giant baby, who, for a few months, is wobbling around and looking all confused and disoriented.

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“Where am I?”, “How much would that be in euros?”, “Why should I avoid this neighbourhood?”, “How do you say ‘morning-after pill’?” – well, you get the picture.

– Friendships/relationships that don’t survive the distance

Re-creating social circle over and over again means, that most of “Aren’t you afraid that Freud was right, and all your future relationships are doomed to embody your daddy issues?”-sort-of conversations have to be replaced by “What did you say your name was?”.

And I’m not even going to start discussing the hardship of keeping the relationship with my ….


– A life that fits in a suitcase

“OMG!! This is the most cosy house I have EVER seen!!” is my usual reaction to literally ANY mediocre place that has a candle, a carpet and anything framed.

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Because I myself don’t really have much stuff. Or any stuff. My shopping trips usually consist of me filling my cart up, and then slowly putting everything back, because I know I would need to pack it, sell it or throw it away in a few months. And as chic as “being a minimalist” sounds, it would be nice, for once, to buy a book, a mug or a marble lion statue…


– Nothing is too familiar

Once in a new place, even the most dull everyday activities, like shopping in the supermarket, taking a metro or kidnapping a child become exciting.

Especially if you also tend to take which ever bus comes first, because you have read “The Alchemist” and have convinced yourself that everything in life is an Omen. #TrueStory

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– Friendships/relationship that don’t survive the distance

Since no one knows who you are – you are free to be whoever you want to be. It is as liberating as deleting your browser history. Plus, what a great opportunity to adopt that accent you’ve been perfecting in front of your bathroom mirror !

– A life that fit’s in a suitcase

Living with only the essentials means that there’s less stuff to clean, to break, to lose, to lend, to put on fire…

Alsoooo… It would will be way easier to shove all my stuff into a bag and jump on the white horse once Prince Charming – with thick black hair, large dark eyes and firm square jaw covered with at least one, maybe two, day’s growth of beard – comes to pick me up, as the sun will be falling below the horizon and Lion Richie songs will be playing in a background… mhmmmm.. but I mean… who is even thinking about that….

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As nice as chatting with myself is, I gotta go and finish packing now… Farewell Beautiful People! **smoke bomb **


Blond girl with a hat, black sweater and blue jeans holding a smartphone in her hands. The photo tag says 'Hello, my name is Sara and I am a phone addict'

TOP 5 Tips for a Technology Detox

The phone use is definitely getting out of hand. Well, not literally. Actually quite the opposite is true – phone is always in the hand. But listen, I am not going to beat myself up for taking Buzzfeed quizz on which kitchen utensil I am, for stalking my ex’s sister’s husband’s ex-wife or for messaging that guy from Tinder who is into cheese sculpting. Sure, it’s not the most prolific use of my time… But who knows how many nervous-bathroom breakdowns were avoided thanks to nerve-calming cat videos that pop up on the screen?

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Having said that, it’s not all unicorns-rainbows-and-naked-babies-in-the-sky…. We have to add d o p a m i n e to the equation. The rumor has it, that this highly addictive brain chemical, which literally makes us happy, is released every time our phone lights up **gasp** .  Not only we are continuously thirsty for just one more dose of dopamine, but grabbing the phone becomes our response to heightened stress and anxiety. Oh… What also keeps us clicking is that, apparently, we don’t like being alone with our thoughts #TherapyAlert .

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And yet I still kept my eyes on the screen, until…   **dark suspense music starts playing in the background**

….it is grey and windy Tuesday evening. I am walking home from the office with the phone in my hand. When suddenly…!!! THE LOUDEST HONK I HAVE EVERY HEARD !!! .. I turn my head and… there’s a truck three feet in front of me, that nearly KILLED ME! Sweet-Jesus-Pancakes! I was so focused on my Instagram I didn’t even notice I was in a middle of the road… Can you imagine??!! I would have died while scrolling through your bagel photos! How horrifying!  No, sweetie, not your bagels… What I mean is that, if anything, my last thought on this planet should be about something divine, or something etheric, or someone like Javier Bardem…

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As a result of this near-death experience, I decided to make some changes. First of all, I started to use Javier’s picture as my screen saver. Secondly, I installed  ‘Space’ app for tracking the amount of time I spend on my phone. Statistics were truly terrifying, but see for yourself #IDareYou.


I still didn’t know how in the world will I be able to put my phone down?!   Sure, increased self-control is desirable, but, let’s be honest here, reducing temptation is waaaaay more doable . So my TOP 5 easy hacks for breaking smartphone addiction are:


1. NOT keeping the phone within easily accessible distance

I started from leaving my phone inside my purse and hope to gradually make my way into detox zones, like internet-free bedroom or internet-free afternoon… but that’s like #YodaLevel.


2. Buying an actual alarm clock*

*An object that exists in separation from a smartphone and is used to wake someone up or to remind about the gluten-free vegan meat mince pie baking in the oven.


3. Turning off push notifications

This tiny adjustment turned out to be much more effective than I thought! Sure, a lower dose of attention from the outer world might appear suicidal at first.

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But it soon becomes a very empowering realisation that you actually don’t have to respond to external obligations and that you do have a right to disconnect.

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4. Enabling greyscale phone mode

What a mind-trick: joyless black and white colour palette makes apps less appealing and thus less addictive #EasyPeasyLemonSqueezy.



5. Replacing phone-time with me-time

A well known way to break a bad habit is by replacing it with a new routine – preferably the less harmful one #DontTradePhoneForCokeKids .



Hacks aside, I truly hope that we all stay a little bit more aware of how touch screens might make us lose touch. And maybe then the truck will hit us just at the right moment. Okey. That didn’t come out quite right. But you know what I mean.

FEAR IS NOT A YOGURT (feel free to quote me on that)



I got it all wrong.

Yes, ABBA lyrics as well —– though I still think that ♫ “See that girl, watch her scream, kicking the dancing queen” ♫ makes complete sense.

But I wanted to talk about getting f e a r all wrong.

I recently came to realise that fear is not a yogurt (feel free to quote me on that). While there are different flavours of fear, – like the fear of spiders, of flying or your phone battery dying, – it does not necessarily have to have a shape, a label or an expiration date.


I feel so scared all the time that at this point it seems like a normal state of being. Maybe that’s why I have been ignoring my fears so successfully for so long.

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Well, since you asked **fanning eyes to hold back the tears** I have fears of not being good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, accomplished enough, fill-in-the-blank enough — which seems to come as a part of welcome-to-planet-earth-good-luck-being-a-human package.

Then there are fears that I picked up along the way. For example, I still make a detour around those school-bully looking kids or get a little panic attack each time an unknown number is calling.


Not to mention the existential fears, like AI takeover, alien abduction or those creepy teletubbies, which, thank God, were made after colored TV.


But truth to be told, all those fears overlap and intertwine until it becomes impossible to understand where one fear ends and another one begins. It doesn’t fit within a confined container, it does not expire after 2 weeks, and it definitely doesn’t contain chunks of fruit. Plus, yogurt would never make me flinch… Whereas now I react to any sudden move or touch in the same way a cat reacts to a cucumber (which, is so bizarre and also so likely to be converted into some sort of new type of yoga workout #ImTellinYa ).

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Michelle Poller decided to face 100 fears in 100 days. What she shared in her TEDx talk was a real eye-opening moment for me – – she was not overcoming 100 fears, but instead, the same 7 fears over and over again:

  1. pain
  2. danger
  3. disgust
  4. embarrassment
  5. rejection
  6. loneliness
  7. control

How fantastic! I mean…. it’s a bit depressing… but what a great revelation!

Deconstruction of f e a r gave me a sense of relief and left me wondering: what if fear is not this terrifying and dream-crushing beast? What if fear is a little helpless creature that is supposed to protect you and look out for potential disasters, but instead is in need of protection himself – just like an “Inside Out” character?

Changing the perception of who I am dealing with, also changes the way I approach it. So instead of fighting or overcoming fear, now I just want to acknowledge it, give it Xanax and let it be.

Pheeew… I was really afraid you were not going to read all the way till the end.

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Once upon a time, I was going out with this guy, let’s call him Aristotle.

As I was walking home after yet another rendezvous, it hit me – Aristotle has no idea how to date me **finger snap**. Everything, from the movies we watched and the meals we ate to the topics we discussed and the synchronized swimming routines we choreographed, felt… misfitting to me. On the contrary, Aristotle was very well aware of what makes him glow. So he followed his bliss, while I, accompanied by my uncertainty, indecisiveness and complaisant manners, just tagged along.

Long story short, it finally dawned upon me, that neither he, nor anyone else has a chance of “getting it right”, until I figure out how to date myself and define what “right” even means.

So, kids, this is not how I met your father story.


Have you noticed, how treating oneself is often condemned as selfish behaviour and ends up on “Things I Should Feel Guilty About List” right next to “Causing global warming” and “Eating peanut butter from a jar”?

The tipping point for me was discovering the Abraham-Hicks teachings, that encourage to entertain yourself, to enjoy yourself, to love yourself, because unless you are selfish enough to reach for that connection, you don’t have anything to give anyone, anyway.

Here is how Oprah brings the whole new meaning to “being full of yourself”:


There are so many things that I would like to answer to myself, like what do I stand for? What is my biggest self-limiting belief? Or how do I feel about putting pineapple on pizza? But before we get into Daddy Issues…

What are the activities that light you up with joy and make you lose the track of time? Is it a 10 hour sleep? Brunch on the terrace? Stroll on the beach? Afternoon cuddle? Karaoke session? Reading? Singing? Skiing? Sales? Sex? Spa?

















By the way, are you also one of those people who put much more effort into cooking and serving the meal, if there is someone else to appreciate it? If attentively making and thoughtfully serving food to others is a viable expression of care and affection, wouldn’t it make sense to treat ourselves with the same care and affection? Yes yes yes, I am talking about using that porcelain china which is saved for the special occasion, complimenting yourself on a good-hair-day, taking time for a slow walk around the pond or giving yourself an aah-mazing foot massage. Three words for you: Treat. Yo. Self :

Basically, “discover the things you love and do them often,” as someone has once told me. Okey okey, it was me who said it.



Anywhooo. Thank you for reading. Peanut butter, here I come.

2012 wasn’t the End. Neither was 2017.


As 2017 was about to kick in, my plane was landing in the flooded Da Nang airport in Vietnam.

Next thing I know, an accidentally-encountered Swedish girl, with golden-mermaid-hair, in the pouring rain, has dragged me to a reggae bar by the sea, perceptively named SEA BAR, just in time for  >>  3…2…1… HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!  <<

And boy oh boy was 2017 happy.


Teaching English in Vietnam lead to a scuba diving adventure in Thailand, a red hen party in Cambodia, a job contract in South Korea, a hike on the Great Wall of China, a MA graduation in Germany, a last-minute runaway to Spain, a Moses-in-the-desert-kind-of retreat in Lithuania, and an entrance to the EU bubble in Belgium.


No wonder I’ve spent this new years eve at home rebooting – by December you could literally see the steam coming out of my ears as the system was about to crash.


Since you asked, yes, I indeed learned and re-learned a few things along a way, for instance,

…that everyone is doing the best they can with the understanding that they have;

…that life runs more smoothly when instead of relying on my brain, I listen to my intuition and emotions;

…that it pays off to be loving, kind and generous, but this is not the reason to be loving, kind and generous;

….or that pizza is the truest glimpse of eternal happiness.


Resolutions for 2018? To be more. To feel more. To love more. To fear less. To blame less. To rush less. To appreciate more. To give more. To laugh more.

Getting to know that bubbly hippie in black, who stares back at me in the mirror, remains my quest.

All is well, said she as she bit into a juicy slice of Margarita.