I’ve never been much of a coffee drinker – partly because the bitter taste did nothing for me and partly because it can lead to, how shall I put this, frequent trips to the ladies’ room. In the last few months though, I couldn’t help and feel that I am missing out on one of life’s simplest yet apparently most enjoyable pleasures. So I decided I was ready to give it another try and embark on my coffee discovery adventure. Now, let’s make it clear that when I speak of coffee I am not referring to the watered down North American version, a double-double or some fancy, concoction from Starbucks. I am talking about Turkish coffee. (more…)

My whole life I have been waiting. Waiting for the war to end. Waiting to grow up. Waiting for love. Waiting to be a mom. Always waiting, for that next thing, experience, that life might throw my way. This way of thinking was probably a direct result of my less than typical childhood growing up in the middle of a war in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina in the early 1990s. The psychological pressure of not knowing if you will live or die, or if you will have something to eat or drink the next day, definitely took its toll on my life. I always approached life and its multifaceted experiences with more than a dash of fear: afraid to make mistakes, afraid to get hurt and afraid of change. So I just waited. (more…)