Saturday, December 31, 2005

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Rambling part II. From a distance, we are all the same

Up close and personal too.
Willing to admit it or not, we all want one thing above all else. To be loved so completely for our essense, outside changes, outside influences, outside actions and the outside world could not alter that basic state.
Watching somone for a little while, sometimes from the start, I feel able to look inside, behind or whatever one might call it. Like a sense reaching out to who they really are. Acting is so very easy to distinguish, actions and words sprung from a host of emotions, most often fear, disappointment, insecurity, sometimes its just simple dishonesty too. Its why I spend time deliberating some in my environment over again, time worrying. I see their future holds no happiness without change or acceptance.
Seeing past layers makes it almost too easy for me to feel deep love, to at times feel overwhelmed. I would love to have that, which is why no matter how much I might desire from given sources at given times, halfway is no way and honesty becomes the only way. I am not perfect, nor will I pretend to be. It is simple after all to gauge what another's idea of perfection is, to mould oneself to their expectations and desires, their wants and needs, ignoring or losing ones own in the process. We all do it or have done it to get what we feel we need. I gave it up long ago.
All or nothing.
My yearbook caption at college was something about rose-tinted spectacles and only seeing the best in all people. I don't believe, that's what it is. Its about looking for the truest part. Its there to perceive in all of us, myself included, just a little below the surface veneer that we all have in varying degrees. It just takes a willingness to go a little deeper, to observe more closely. Often people are or choose to be fooled by masks or feel they need themselves to wear them. It is easier.
Its a very rare occurance, I imagine, when there is mutual willingness in two people. How lucky would those two be. How honest and secure and free to move and explore. Bathing and basking in acceptance and love. I'd love to do a little basking.

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Anything that comes into my head tonight is getting posted the moment I write it, pay no real mind, its just a bunch of nonsense to get out of an apparent post slump.

Here to stay

I think too much about my brother. Its not grief either, its knowing too many details about his life and death and having nobody to share it with. Hence it stays within me. Someone once told me, when we have those really vivid dreams that feel real, they are. Souls emerge and meet. Too fanciful for me, but a nice thought admittedly. I had one of those dreams once and it makes a spooky kind of sense in the light of this theory. It felt as real as anything I have felt awake. A long drawn out goodbye. More sadness too.


Full of energy, full of hope and convinced the world is full of promise.
Each new year has brought about thoughts of a new beginning. 'Its a new dawn - its a new day', which every day of course is, but how far do we really take this into account as we wake up each morning. Not often, unless there is specific reason to.
I've always kinda trusted my so-called sixth sense and she and I used to do okay, it worked most times. Not so much in recent years, though something has me anticipating this coming year so very much more than any others that proceeded before. I feel like saying something silly and this is certainly the night for it. 2006 is the year of leaps.


I have so much feeling in me, its overflowing, spilling out wasted onto the floor. I'm slipping and sliding in it, which is quite fun, like skating along the icey pavement on cold, winter days. Clear thoughts have been few and far between, mostly because I have refused to entertain them, even though they were good ones. I don't feel like making the smart choices, whatever they may be, all I want to do is swirl in lovely dreams.

Feel goods

There are a few things that have the ability to make me feel joyous by just being near, yet I have put myself without realizing it in a position far from them, which is just plain rediculous. Ignoring it in favour of satisfying others. Made me feel good too. Perhaps I have become selfish of late. There are a couple of thoughts bouncing around in my head that I really want to put into action, but the only person they would directly benefit is me. It may even involve having to say no to certain other people, shock, horror. It wouldn't be a virgin experience, I've done it before when pushed to the farthest limits, but I've always come back for one reason or another. I'm starting to wonder, if it is not time for a clean break, but as always the burning question is, whether I will be steadfast or whether I will as on those other occasions finally give into the pressure.

Speak to my heart

Felt recently as though I am about to burst with all I feel inside. My chest feels constricted and I find myself smiling almost constantly. Everything has felt really easy, even when it has been hard. Like a soft coat of veneer has been spread and nothing can lose its sheen. Even on a day such as today, when there has been such an uproar, not once did I feel anything other than insanely happy on the inside. I want to tell myself, its because the future is bright and looming. Or that it is because yesterday is gone. But its neither, its simply now.


Let neither man nor woman too be heard
To say beauty is unimportant
Beauty makes the soul sing like the sweetest bird
Enraptures the mind, captivates the imagination
Fills the heart with purest joy
It appears before us in many a guise
Some that stay that way forever
Some gone almost before they arise
Fear is a debilitating emotion
I'm so afraid of being like you
I do all I consciously can to be otherwise
Yet often recognize those qualities in myself
By the same token
Were I to embrace and emphasize some of those aspects
Perhaps I would take more chances
Perhaps I would know more beauty

Pay no heed

'Learn from the mistakes of others, since there is not time enough to make them all ourselves.' Always thought that was such a clever quote. I've lived by it. And I'm not sure that was such a smart thing to do.


Something is missing. Well, if I wanted to sit down and count them, there are a lot of 'somethings' missing. What comes from being too accepting and thankful for what one has is complacency about the things one hasn't. I think, I have my needs pretty much covered. After all, we cannot miss, what we never had, which in turn turns the rest into 'wants'. I don't normally pay too much attention to 'wants', considering them bonuses that I am well able to live without, not least when one looks around and sees there are those without that they need.
But there are an awful lot of them.

Of late

I have a whole bunch of motivational cliches that I love to throw out at opportune moments, mostly to myself. 'You never know until you try' - 'Anything is possible, if you want it bad enough' - 'Each dawn brings a new day' - 'There are no limits to what we can achieve, except those we place on ourselves' to name but a few. And my favourite: 'Just do it!'
'Just do it!' has got me past many hurdles.
Of late, I seem to have been taking only the safe options. But its terribly tedious in the long run and life is just too short. Decision time coming up around the next bend. I believe, its just about time to leap with blind trust there will be no sharp rocks below.

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

:-) Hats 'n' all

Monday, December 26, 2005


I've always very much liked the idea that everything happens for a reason, though I am not at all sure anymore, how much truth there is to this convenient theory. It could simply be a case of moulding perceptions of past events to fit an acceptable reason. A desire to make sense of the nonsensical leading to finding it even where there is none.
Perhaps driven by the extent of the apparent implausibility, another theory happily emerges to make sense of the senseless, namely that not everything needs to make sense. Or at the very least, reason is allowed to remain unfathomable. Radical though that thought is. ;-)
Simple, in other words.

Akurala Beach, Sri Lanka

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Friday, December 23, 2005

The Little Matchstick Girl - by H.C.Andersen

The two most valuable lessons I learnt in childhood were: The value of money and to be grateful for all I had in the knowledge there were so many less fortunate than I.
Despite being showered with gifts by my grandmother in all seasons, I never expected or demanded of her. Watching some children now, this behaviour seems pretty amazing to me. I'm not exactly sure why or how, but that is how it was. I was always very aware of the fact, I was lucky to be safe, warm and fed and anything more than that was a most wonderous blessing.
"Eat up all your dinner, there are children starving in Africa" not quite, but I do try my best to pass those two lessons onto my child.

Stories told to us in childhood and the impressions our youthful minds draw from them can have a trememdous influence on how we view the world. The one I remember best and the one that still has the ability to make me cry each time I hear it is H.C. Andersen's story about the little matchgirl.
I'm sharing it here for anyone who has not read or heard it, simply because it serves well, I believe, as a reminder in this time of great blessings, just how very fortunate we are to be safe, warm and fed.

It was terribly cold and nearly dark on the last evening of the old year, and the snow was falling fast. In the cold and the darkness, a poor little girl, with bare head and naked feet, roamed through the streets. It is true she had on a pair of slippers when she left home, but they were not of much use. They were very large, so large, indeed, that they had belonged to her mother, and the poor little creature had lost them in running across the street to avoid two carriages that were rolling along at a terrible rate. One of the slippers she could not find, and a boy seized upon the other and ran away with it, saying that he could use it as a cradle, when he had children of his own. So the little girl went on with her little naked feet, which were quite red and blue with the cold.
In an old apron she carried a number of matches, and had a bundle of them in her hands. No one had bought anything of her the whole day, nor had anyone given her even a penny. Shivering with cold and hunger, she crept along; poor little child, she looked the picture of misery. The snowflakes fell on her long, fair hair, which hung in curls on her shoulders, but she regarded them not.
Lights were shining from every window, and there was a savory smell of roast goose, for it was New-year’s eve—yes, she remembered that. In a corner, between two houses, one of which projected beyond the other, she sank down and huddled herself together. She had drawn her little feet under her, but she could not keep off the cold; and she dared not go home, for she had sold no matches, and could not take home even a penny of money. Her father would certainly beat her; besides, it was almost as cold at home as here, for they had only the roof to cover them, through which the wind howled, although the largest holes had been stopped up with straw and rags. Her little hands were almost frozen with the cold. Ah! perhaps a burning match might be some good, if she could draw it from the bundle and strike it against the wall, just to warm her fingers. She drew one out—“scratch!” how it sputtered as it burnt! It gave a warm, bright light, like a little candle, as she held her hand over it. It was really a wonderful light. It seemed to the little girl that she was sitting by a large iron stove, with polished brass feet and a brass ornament. How the fire burned! and seemed so beautifully warm that the child stretched out her feet as if to warm them, when, lo! the flame of the match went out, the stove vanished, and she had only the remains of the half-burnt match in her hand.
She rubbed another match on the wall. It burst into a flame, and where its light fell upon the wall it became as transparent as a veil, and she could see into the room. The table was covered with a snowy white table-cloth, on which stood a splendid dinner service, and a steaming roast goose, stuffed with apples and dried plums. And what was still more wonderful, the goose jumped down from the dish and waddled across the floor, with a knife and fork in its breast, to the little girl. Then the match went out, and there remained nothing but the thick, damp, cold wall before her.
She lighted another match, and then she found herself sitting under a beautiful Christmas-tree. It was larger and more beautifully decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door at the rich merchant’s. Thousands of tapers were burning upon the green branches, and colored pictures, like those she had seen in the show-windows, looked down upon it all. The little one stretched out her hand towards them, and the match went out.The Christmas lights rose higher and higher, till they looked to her like the stars in the sky....
....She again rubbed a match on the wall, and the light shone round her; in the brightness stood her old grandmother, clear and shining, yet mild and loving in her appearance. “Grandmother,” cried the little one, “O take me with you; I know you will go away when the match burns out; you will vanish like the warm stove, the roast goose, and the large, glorious Christmas-tree.” And she made haste to light the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to keep her grandmother there. And the matches glowed with a light that was brighter than the noon-day, and her grandmother had never appeared so large or so beautiful. She took the little girl in her arms, and they both flew upwards in brightness and joy far above the earth, where there was neither cold nor hunger nor pain, for they were with God.
In the dawn of morning there lay the poor little one, with pale cheeks and smiling mouth, leaning against the wall; she had been frozen to death on the last evening of the year; and the New-year’s sun rose and shone upon a little corpse! The child still sat, in the stiffness of death, holding the matches in her hand, one bundle of which was burnt. “She tried to warm herself,” said some. No one imagined what beautiful things she had seen, nor into what glory she had entered with her grandmother, on New-year’s day.

What matters is what is in the heart

Near or far, here or gone, all we give and have been given is forever ours to know.

Christmas at Tivoli, Copenhagen

Wednesday, December 21, 2005


Monday, December 19, 2005

Hey all.
Connection problems again.
Replies to your comments below coming up and hopefully thereafter I shall have time to have a quick peek through most of your keyholes.
Other than that, I'll be back a.s.a.p.

How I ever got through my days without talking to all of you, I will never know :-D.

Saturday, December 17, 2005

Those 3 little words, I long to hear

"Of course not!"
To move on past the final stumbling blocks. Just two of the kind, but pretty efficient.
It would just take a little tweaking, or a lot, but I trusted the words would eventually come from my own lips, or rather I no longer would feel the need to hear them. Suspicion grows, it will not be entirely that simple. For all the great and glorious changes, it lingers.
On the one hand, I keep thinking; just leave it alone, when have things ever felt this good!
On the other, I know, it is wherefrom all the rest stemmed and if I could just get past these last two obstacles, I'd have every chance of winning!
Biased as I am, I'm not sure, I am capable of seeing what is real. Whether I have, as I hope, the right to hear those words. Thus, ultimately they may have to come from someone else, but who?
Whom would I believe?
The prerequisite would be allowing them the opportunity and the procarious opening, as it were, to declare "Of course!".
Needs will necessitate, however, fore one thing above all else is certain. I have absolutely no intention of losing.

Secret smile

In the middle, underneath, behind all the closed doors,
Between asleep and awake, in silence,
Always in noise,
It comes to me. A secret knowlegde that only I know,
Taking me so very close to happy.
New faces surround, knowing nothing different,
Thinking this is who I am,
And it is. Not then as now,
Or perhaps will be,
So heartbreakingly close to happy.

Friday, December 16, 2005

Here's the pattern ---> (which btw has nothing to do with cleaning rofl!)

Tidy, tidy, tidy, freak, tidy, tidy, tidy, freak, tidy, tidy, tidy, freak.....
And I haven't freaked in a while.
I should just freak on a full-time basis!
Ultimately, its when the good stuff happens.


Its not finding the answers that preoccupies.
There are plenty of those all around.
Its determining which are the correct questions.

Truth looms large as life ahead, obscuring clarity.
You thought you knew then where you were headed. It may not have been pleasant, but at least you were resigned. What lies ahead now, just one person knows.
Ask not, and you shall hear none.
Too many options, not enough. Each one, tentatively disregarded, disappearing out of sight before you are allowed to be certain. Knowing nothing is infinitely unnerving. Knowing everything must be more. Small wonder you feel confused now that everything is back in place.
Hate to love and love to hate.
Everyone wants a happy ending.
Hope she does too.

Thursday, December 15, 2005

Too short


Perception is essential to contentment, I do believe. I see or talk to a number of people on a daily basis, who have so much to be thankful for, yet they do not have that one luxury they covet and all else becomes tainted.
I can't quite figure out if I'm loopy or smart, since there is an awful lot of mess and stress that has been gaining momentum around me in recent days, yet all I can think about is how incredibly lucky I am.

"It is so simple to be happy, but it is so difficult to be simple"

It seems to me, we need three things and three things only, though they may come in any number of guises. The really good news is, we are largely, if not perfectly, able to provide these for ourselves.
We need to feel safe, we need to feel in control and we need to feel valued.
Whether or not they are equally balanced with regard to importance, I am not entirely sure. I suspect that which we consider to be more crucial among the three is that which we are missing (or previously was absent for a longer period of time).
Its all too easy to make up logical, perfectly believable reasons and take them as truth, at times even managing to kid ourselves, though deep down we may know better and therein lies the answers to such ever-persistant questions as: why?
Control is essential to me.
As soon, as I feel the reigns slipping, I start to panic and grab on even tighter. I'm not sure what would happen, if I ever let go.
The answers to my whys are really very simple, they just are not the ones I want them to be.

Remember this at Christmas time

According to the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, while both male and female reindeer grow antlers in the summer each year, male reindeer drop their antlers at the beginning of winter, usually late November to mid-December. Female reindeer retain their antlers until after they give birth in the spring.

Therefore, according to every historical rendition depicting Santa's reindeer, every single one of them, from Rudolph to Blitzen, had to be a girl.

We should've known...

ONLY women would be able to drag a large man in a red velvet suit all around the world in one night and not get lost.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

Amorous Untamed Temptress Undertaking Massage and Necking

Monday, December 12, 2005

"All my life"

"There are places I remember
All my life, though some have changed
Some forever not for better
Some have gone and some remain
All these places had their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all
But of all these friends and lovers
there is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more"

Sunday, December 11, 2005

The cows of Somerset

Living in the city of London, it was a rare and wonderous treat to head out into the country-side. I once had a spritzer with the much-admired Patricia Routledge after watching her highly-comical performance as 'Mrs Malaprop' in Chichester. Yet the highlight of that day trip was a short walk through the loveliest, quaintest, cobbled street town that we passed through on route and whose name has escaped me ever since, sadly putting paid to the idea I shall revisit by anything other than chance.

Visitors flock to Wells for the Cathedral (much as they do to Canterbury), for the architecture and for the cosy charm of the many low-ceilinged antique stores.
My fondest memory from my visit to this pretty little village and the surrounding attractions are of the cows in the meadow by the Bed and Breakfast at which I stayed.
It was quite a large patch of grassland bordered mostly by a man-made wall of stones and home to 19 friendly cows. At the height of summer, the many apple trees running along the outside of the wall were dropping their fruit by the dozen and on that first morning there, as the cows stood directly on the other side of the wall, I threw them a couple.
It was such a simple but great pleasure to see them munching joyfully, it became a habit to stop and throw a couple of apples to any cows near the wall each morning on my way out and again when I returned.
After a few days, I tried whistling to get their attention when a little way away and it seemed to work. Certainly, they would look up and come on over when I began throwing apples out into the grass.
All in all, I stayed at the B&B for almost four weeks by the end of which our signal had been perfected.
I've seen some fabulously funny things along the way, but few, if any, have made me laugh with as much frivolity and sheer joy as watching a bunch of knobbly-kneed, clumsy cows gallop across a field, as though at Ascot, in a spirited race for apples, and all at the mere sound of a whistle.

Who has more children

What is behind this post. Who had a story to tell. Why knows nothing about it. Who told what. In fact, only what and who know, who has secrets. Who has more children. Four to be exact.

Check-book, bin-liners and tissues

People talk. Amongst themselves.
Most often to me.
They see what goes on. They've been affected.
They complain, and rightly so.
How?! Why?! They ask, confused, hurt.
I say: What is, just is. Some people never change.
She tells lies. Often. All the time.
She knows, I know. Thick skin, twisting and turning.
Nowhere to go. The truth wins.
She thinks, if she just keeps running, she will stay ahead.
Its so blatant.
She'll scream at me. Mistaken impression.
The louder she shouts, the less I'll listen.
No pride in the fact, I outwit her each time.
No pride at all.
Just embarassment.
People talk. I stay to listen. To help clean up.
She did this. She did that.
She said this. She said that.
Is it true, they'll ask.
Its all lies.
They watch, question.
What is, just is.
Don't worry, just leave it, we'll sort it ourselves.
So nice, they are.
But that wouldn't be right.

Saturday, December 10, 2005

Yet another Christmas post

I remember the Christmas' of my childhood as perfect. Four generations gathered to celebrate a traditional Danish Christmas in my grandparents home.
The evening would begin with a meal of roast pork, roast duck, caramel potatoes, boiled potatoes, potato chips, brown gravy and jam. Strawberry jam, to be exact.
Rice pudding with powered cinnamon and butter would follow for desert. There would be a single whole nut mixed in and whomever would get this nut in their portion would win a prize. Somehow, being the only child in those days, the nut would always end up on my plate, even though I would have Ice-cream instead.

After dinner, it was upstairs to light the candles on the tree.

Being the only child/grandchild/great-grandchild had even greater advantages than getting the nut. At least half the presents under the tree would be for me.
Before I was allowed to open any, however, we would join hands in a circle around the tree and walk around it singing Christmas carols for at least an hour.

It was nice, but at this point the excitement and anticipation would be almost too great. It would accumulate in the preceding weeks, especially in those last two or three days leading up to Christmas Eve. On those days, my grandfather would take me up to the attic on top of his bakery each evening, so that we could leave a bowl of rice pudding for Santa.
Santa lived in the smallest, narrowest space between the inside wall and the slope of the roof. Just at the top of the stairs, it was possible to look right down to the end. We would try our hardest to spy him hiding, rushing from one peeking spot to the other hoping to catch him out through sheer speed.
One year I ran so fast to the other end, I saw him, but just for a second.

I felt immensely sorry for the all the others that year, since they were all old and none of them had ever seen the real Santa. So with my mother's help, I pretended, I was he and handed out gifts for all.
Nobody knew it was really me and they were so happy to have seen Santa.


it would be time to open presents. One by one, I would hand out the gifts from under the tree. I would be left with a mountain of new dolls and toys and be almost too tired at this stage to play with them.

That year, one of my presents was a doll almost as big as me!

I named her after my favourite person in the whole world. My grandmother, Grete.
She was the glue of our family and Christmas was always perfect.

This year, with just 2 weeks to go until Christmas, the bottom has well and truly dropped out of my plans.
I had hoped my family would come spend Christmas with myself and Maria, perhaps I might even have succeeded in giving her the kind of traditional, big-happy-family Christmas, I remember, surrounded by loving relatives each intent on making her every moment magical.
Alas, oh well, and never mind.

We'll make an open circle around the tree, it worked just fine before.
Plus, when I remember

  1. Santa will be coming,
  2. We know all the carols,
  3. We always give each other the perfect gifts,
  4. The house will be filled with love
  5. And the nut will be in Ice Cream, not rice pudding

- it starts to sound pretty perfect!

Friday, December 09, 2005

English signs in Foreign Countries

In a Bangkok temple:

Cocktail lounge, Norway:

Doctor's office, Rome:

Dry cleaners, Bangkok:

Tokyo hotel's rules and regulations:

On the menu of a Swiss restaurant:

In a Tokyo bar:

Hotel, Japan:

Hotel, Zurich:

Advertisement for donkey rides, Thailand:

A laundry in Rome:

Thursday, December 08, 2005

Happy Christmas your arse

Generalization is considered a big no-no, I know, but...
I have such great admiration for the Irish. Generally.
Their humour, their spirit (intentionally no 'S'), the accent, their hearts, the incessant swearing, the love of family.
Smile upon them with much fondness.
The first piece of dialogue in 'The Commitments' is "Fock orf!". I fell off my chair laughing and in love with this film instantly. For the same reasons ( and the chance for a short Irish jig in the middle), I cannot do other but cherish the following;

Fairy Tale Of New York
by the Pogues & Kirsty MacColl

It was Christmas Eve babe
In the drunk tank
An old man said to me, won't see another one
And then he sang a song
The rare old mountain dew
I turned my face away
And dreamed about you

Got on a lucky one
Came in eighteen to one
I've got a feeling
This year's for me and you
So happy Christmas
I love you baby
I can see a better time
When all our dreams come true

(Jiggy time :)
They've got cars big as bars
They've got rivers of gold
But the wind goes right through you
It's no place for the old
When you first took my hand
On a cold Christmas Eve
You promised me
Broadway was waiting for me

You were handsome
You were pretty
Queen of New York City
When the band finished playing
They howled out for more
Sinatra was swinging,
All the drunks they were singing
We kissed on a corner
Then danced through the night

The boys of the NYPD choir
Still singing "Galway Bay"
And the bells were ringing out
For Christmas day

You're a bum
You're a punk
You're an old slut on junk
Lying there almost dead on a drip in that bed
You scumbag, you maggot
You cheap lousy faggot
Happy Christmas your arse
I pray God it's our last


I could have been someone
Well so could anyone
You took my dreams from me

When I first found you
I kept them with me babe
I put them with my own
Can't make it all alone
I've built my dreams around you


Wednesday, December 07, 2005


Happy Birthday to you
The year, it just flew
I've loved every minute
Sure, we'll make it to two

Tuesday, December 06, 2005



Monday, December 05, 2005

Your opinion, please.

In reference to the quintessential aspects of charater, is personality cultivated through the experiences of childhood and life or are aspects of the character genetic/hereditary?
If both, which is more influential?

Much appreciated.

Saturday, December 03, 2005


5th post of the day

Nah, :-), this is just an update for those of you who remember the post about the man, whose wife left him after 40 years of marriage.
She is moving back home this evening.
Hoping everything will work out between them!
Fingers crossed.

In the name of love

I have on occasion gone too far.
Twice I've tried to use emotional blackmail as a last-ditched attempt to evoke change and each time it was wasted, there was no result. For me to go to that kind of length means I have been pushed as far as I can go. For me to use the memory of love and time given freely means there was nowhere else to go.
"Think about who I am and what I have done for you!" Imagine saying such a thing! Yet I did. I said it to try and get them to listen to me, to try and stop them from harming themselves and everyone around them.
Some people are just not worth the effort others make on their behalf.
Being selfish is not natural in my book, how can one only think about oneself all of the time and worse still, how can one continue to do so, when it is plain for all and sundry to see the damage being done because of it.
A few times, like my own personal ghost showing me what could or should have been, I've seen other roads. Walked a little ways along them even, far enough at least to have an idea of what the outcome may have been.
In going too far, I worked harder than I should against an honest man in order to help one of these two. It seemed at the time, the lesser of two evils, that she needed the favourable outcome more, and thus I felt I had little choice. However, that matters not in black and white, it wasn't right. I didn't hurt him or anyone else, but I did place a seed of doubt in his mind, where none had previously existed, relying on the whole innocent until proven guilty theory to cloud what he thought he knew, making him think perhaps he had made a mistake.
Nothing changed in her though and those words later left my mouth:
"Think of who I am and what I have done for you!"
Such a terrible thing to say.

Little did I realize

It is almost like pain, but the pleasant kind, the kind one cannot get enough of. Like the build to orgasm, except in this case there will be no relief, no sweet aftermath.
No languishing in release and yet it matters less. I can understand though, how some might let it hurt them. I'm riding the wave, managing to balance and letting it carry me by momentum to the shore, convinced it shall bestow me gently thereupon. And once it has, that I shall eventually find something else.
Meanwhile, everything seems to be brighter, nearer, softer, clearer, better, and for this I am infinitely thankful.
More than that, I'm anticipative.


Giggles at the absurdity always accompanied thoughts of those people who mindlessly flick through the channels on a television and call it relaxation.
I get it now.
I do the same with blogs.
In fact, I have an A-list, a B-list and a Z-list (and no, I'm not telling whose on which).
Sometimes I mindlessly surf.
And happily call it relaxation.

Coming in from behind

Two and three quarter years ago, my good friend, Danielle, came to visit me for the weekend. Up until then, we had spoken either by email or telephone each day and as the day approached, neither of us could contain our excitement at our impending reunion. Though a short visit, we had the best time. We talked, hardly slept, went to the coast, watched the waves, ate chocolate, drank coffee, laughed.
She flew back home and I continued to call her regularly as I had done before (she didn't). She came across cold and I couldn't figure out why. I didn't ask. Pride kept me from doing so, and although I'd never have admitted it then, a large dose of fear. Fear of rejection, fear of loss.
Instead, I decided to also try not calling for a little while.
That was April 2003.
Not one word has passed between us since. I think of her all the time and analyse every part of that weekend, wondering, trying to recall some forgotten detail that would lend explanation to all the rest. Her last words to me at the airport were 'I love you'.
Dan and I were very close for 12 years, 12 important years. I was there, when she lost, she was there for me after I left my daughter's father. She saw me change and was the only one who warned me. It showed in my face, she told me and pleaded with me not to get too hard, to forgive myself. Much history, much affection. Yet pride, and especially fear overrode.
Frequently just recently, I've felt as though I am finally comprehending things everyone seems to have known all along. And its not that I didn't know of their existance and their validity, but only now does it truly make sense to me. Coming in from behind, a little late granted, but better late than never.
Better late than never.
I wrote Dan a letter tonight, which I will be sending tomorrow.
The main thing is not, whether she will reply, although of course this would be ideal. What matters is, she knows I still love her and though I cannot for the life of me think what it could possibly be, if I did unwittingly do something to upset her, that I am immeasurably sorry.
Its late, yes, but I wrote it almost as soon as I was able.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

there is a warm soft wind blowing 'round me
just to give all the leaves such a haunting melody
that forever will be a part of me

- Santana

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Oh! My! Gosh!

In the month of February, 2006, I will have not one, not two, but ten whole, glorious days to do with whatever I please!
Maria has decided she wants to visit her grandparents in London during our holidays, and amazingly, they have agreed to have her for this duration.
"You can't come, Mum!"
......"Oh, okay then."

I'm beyond excited!
And I don't feel the least bit guilty (well, not much), because I know what I shall be like.
I'll be missing her like crazy as soon as she sets off.

10 days!

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10!

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Summer Memories

Saturday, November 26, 2005

A dash of fear, a hint of twit

Some things need to be spelled out in the most obvious manner for me to be able to perceive them as real. Until then, uncertainty reigns as I flit from one platform of confusion to another, knowing for just a second and disregarding the next. What may seem blatantly obvious to the next person is not always so with me. Time and again, I've later learned I have managed to appear nonchalant, when I have felt anything but.
So intent on not seeing too much, I didn't see enough.
Its when I ache for reciprocation of the way I feel, I don't seem able to tell, if I am really seeing it.

Friday, November 25, 2005


"when you think you've reached the end of the line
walls that once blocked your way
come tumbling down
and you'll find the answers were there all the time
-Tasmin Archer

The questions one at times finds to be the hardest are often the same ones to which there is a most simple answer, and all that holds us back from seeing it is confusion. Often there seems to be a tendency to cloud basic truths with a myriad of conflicting ideas, inconsequential data that in the greater scheme matter not. In every truth, there will be an undeniable fact, one that when all else is stripped from it and it is laid bare, it is the only thing that really and truly matters. It can be excrutiatingly difficult for the person working their way through, it may even feel like the whole world has spun on its axis and nothing is or will ever be right again. Who am I? What am I? Where am I? What do I do now? Where do I go from here? Fundamental questions that when their answers become elusive can be the scariest.
The heart may feel constricted, as though someone has reached in and is sqeezing the very life out of it. One may feel each breath is a struggle, it may feel like blackness is imminent, like there is no return from the edge that one has unwittingly been pushed towards. Forsight, hindsight, clear sight all merge and everything becomes a blur.
From every place one has travelled to, there is a way back even though the path may be hidden now. All it means is, extra travelling time is needed. Each step may need clearing first. One may have to get down into the dirt in order to find a way. But whatever happens, one cannot stop though it may bring dejection, hopelessness even. Its always worth it in the end and it is this knowledge that can keep someone going, when all else seems to scream out how impossible it all is. Everything, regardless of what it is, has the power to be alright in the end, since the abilty to make it so, lies solely in our own hands and nothing anyone does or says can change that.

Its Snowing!!!

:-) Wanna come play?

Thursday, November 24, 2005


I have a dear friend going through an unimaginably difficult situation and in my attempt at support, I have been reminded how great our capacity for love is and that we would for love do, say and endure almost anything.

The word that comes to mind is: limitless.
The amount we can hold in our hearts, the amount we have to give. It knows no bounds, we can never run out, it is infinite and in its infinity, wonderous. There seems to be little or no restiction on how far we are willing to go in order to protect a loved one from harm or hurt. For others, we would instinctively go to lenghts we would never near for ourselves. And, just as we would do anything in order to protect, so too we have an amazing ability to withstand and to adapt to whatever may come to challenge it, almost.

Monday, November 21, 2005

Screwing up

I want to grab her by the shoulders and shake her until she sees sense and yet all I can do now is stand and watch as she flits and floats from one huge mistake to the next, and hope she will realize sooner rather than later just what the far-reaching ramifications of her actions may be. No matter what happens from this point forward, she will not come out of this unscathed.
Sometimes I think, we are so concerned with being nice, we fail to do right.
Perhaps instead of assuring her whatever she does, I'll be here for her, if she needs me, what I really should be doing is raging and attempting to force her to see things the way I see them. The 'learn by doing' pedagogical philosophy versus why let her make silly mistakes when there is so much opportunity to learn by example rather than personal experience.
Afterall, there are numerous ways one can screw up, why insist on choosing the tried and tested methods. I almost feel like telling her to at least be interesting, try for the shock factor even, if needs be, but that these routes have become cliché, because everyone knows what the outcome will be.

Regardless of how nice, we each thought we were being, we have collectively made a mess through our own conflicts and the unfortunate fact now remains, she will have to pay for our mistakes through her own.


Sunday, November 20, 2005

Just here

There are times in life, decisions a person must make, where they have no choice but to wait until it is right. That being when head and heart correspond. They might know with every part of reason and being which route must eventually be taken, yet still be held back indefinitely by emotion. Outsiders may advise, invited, uninvited, and their counsel discernable as sound, a confirmation even of that the individual is already aware. Still, nothing happens and it may confuse.
The smallest ability to invest oneself as far as imagination will allow into another's possible mindset will provide understanding, if nothing else, then that full recognition is something that must be achieved alone and cannot be coerced. Some judge quickly, merely because they do not witness their own logic and yet how can anyone know for certain, how they would react in the same circumstance.

Saturday, November 19, 2005


It confounds me how the biggest secrets very often are found within the closest of frameworks, between those who should ideally be closest to each other. Such secrets, the ones that have the potential to destroy not because of what they consist of but simply because they were withheld, are often kept for years. Sometimes forever.
There isn't much that shocks or even surprises me and I think, my family and friends know this about me, which may be why I often seem to be selected as a confidant. It isn't always easy, especially when they affect me directly, and yet I often have no choice but to keep them locked in my heart forever.
Very recently, secrets kept for over 40 years have been told to me. In small part, this information changes who I am and it has my instincts grabbling for attention, where I'd usually allow them to rule. There is so much I want to do with this knowledge, but somethings are just better left alone.
On the other hand, the person in question knows me well and I cannot help but feel perhaps there is an unspoken agenda behind my being told this now. I could ask of course, but I'd never get a straight answer - I know him well too.
There was a hint.
And yet, I could be reading too much into it.
Were I to pursue, to dig, I would once again be disrupting several someones' lives as they know them, once again perhaps coming to them with facts they never knew or imagined existed.
I'm not sure, it would be fair, especially after so long. Ignorance is bliss in some cases.
I guess, I have already decided to do nothing.
But its a strange and perplexing realization.

Friday, November 18, 2005


Thursday, November 17, 2005

Its official

Winter has come to Denmark.

Everything is white with frost and its bloody freezing!!!

A little early, but I can't help myself -
one tiny preview and then I'll wait until December... promise!

Sleigh bells ring, are you listening
In the lane, snow is glistening
A beautiful sight, we're happy tonight
Walkin' in a winter wonderland

Gone away is the bluebird
Here to stay is a new bird
He sings a love song as we go along
Walkin' in a winter wonderland

In the meadow we can build a snowman
Then pretend that he is Parson Brown
He'll say, "are you married?"
We'll say, "no man",
"But you can do the job when you're in town!"

Later on we'll conspire
As we dream by the fire
To face unafraid
The plans that we made

Walkin' in a winter wonderland,
Walkin' in a winter wonderland,
Walkin' in a winter wonderland!

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Only for you....

Isay, would I subject myself to the humiliation ;-)

That's not my face under there, but Frankenstein's ugly sister's, lol

Plus I'm seem to be missing my boobies,

and Maria's mouth, well, speaks for itself :-)


If I were to telephone a friend or a family member to tell them about the clouds and the moon, they would think me loopy - thank goodness for blogland.

I saw clouds of fire today. It was a truly majestic sight. I don't recall ever having seen clouds look like that before. The sun setting just behind made them glow so much, the edges appeared to be flames. Just as I was filled with this wonder, directly opposite the moon caught my attention, hanging low in the sky, full and large enough to seem nearby.
It was like night and day showing themselves at their best simultaneously for just a moment.
It was really quite wonderful.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005


Justin, my suggestion, as promised.

Whether you choose to use it or not is your perogative,
afterall it may not appeal to you.


Major tantrums going on here today (no, silly, not me).
Anyone want to take over, while I go sit on the end of that pier and soak up the peace and quiet?

Sunday, November 13, 2005

Sweet child

Sweet child,
I looked upon your face and I knew
Sometimes, I see everything there
In the faces of strangers and those known
The past, the present, the future
All merging
Into destiny

Sweet child,
I knew which way you would head
But still I held fervent hope
I'd laugh at my own craziness
And watch you make the most
Of every day
Of life

Sweet child,
You are so dear to me still
Regardless of all that has happened
Wherever you go, whatever you do
You can always come back
I'm here
For you

Sweet child,
Take heed as you make your way
Don't lose yourself as others do
Know your worth, know your soul
Don't let anyone hurt you.
Love you
Miss you



If you look real close, you'll see me smiling and waving at all you lovely people :-)

Saturday, November 12, 2005

Grab the popcorn and the coke

I've been trying to write this post for a few days now for the simple and only reason that I hastily promised a follow-through on what was essentially a spur of the moment desire to share a wonderful, joyous feeling, however trying to explain in words just sounds silly, rediculous even. Still, never mind, eh?...let's roll it anyway

With my mind working as it does, I see an image of an equalizer, the kind one has on the front of a soundsystem, so I'll do by best to explain the somewhat inexplicable by way of this assistance:

I've been fine-tuning for absolutely ages, trying to figure how to get the best sound. Painstaking work that often took my focus away from other activities.
I've figured the balance, I do believe.
Realizing it doesn't necessarily have to be at all symmetrical in order to be balanced.
In fact, on this long row of digits, I've turned a few right down. I hadn't attempted that before, believing they simply had to feature, that they were necessary aspects.

Once I had turned that exceedingly stubborn first one right down, the others (the ones previously deemed necessary) were quite easily determined to be equally worthy of this status.

Others that had received little recognition were in turn tuned right up and that way I was able to coax the most lovely melodious sound, pleasing to the ear and thoroughly peace-inducing.

As with everything, it was easy once I knew how. The answers to persistant questions, the years of agonizing, analyzing, blame, regret, worry, hurt, basic crap which had been going on for a quarter of a century in some cases (what a bloody waste of time!), were in fact very simple and had to do with perception and choice.

Which I knew - I mean, I'm not totally stupid.
But decisive action was called for!
& perhaps timing was the necessary contributing factor.

(And not just an illusion behind swirls of induced smoke or screens).

More importantly, now I know how to tune, I'm able to find the best sound for the new songs too (though it may on occasion take a little while to adjust, 'Your Smile' is a perfect example and relates to the following statement). Proven by the feelings surrounding the post directly before this one, which have been going on for a while and now have balance. A sad song, but exquisite tones nonetheless.

And the absolute best part: My own volume is turned to the max. and everyone who wants to listen to my song is very much more than welcome to. I have an endless supply and no off-button, not anymore.
Its two different systems and each is working perfectly.

Makes me feel, as said, awed and blessed and very, very lucky.

Important announcement: That's the end of this show as it was. I'm playing a smaller, more befitting and much more enjoyable and rewarding role in the next one. Stick around, its full of big, bright stars and should hopefully be a lot more interesting.

Roll credits...

Friday, November 11, 2005

"If I said, you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against me?"

Ever so softly you came into my life
I hardly even noticed you at first
Now you're all I can think about
Like an all-consuming, unquenchable thirst
...somehow I'll need to figure a way
To dampen this spread of wildfire
To get over what never will be
To kill this mad desire


Find the balance and the answers become apparent.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

A man

Look over there and tell me what you see?
I see a man.
What else?
A regular man.
A regular man?
Let me tell you what I see.

I see a hard veneer with a heart of liquid gold. I see someone who knows what is important, who loves his family above all else. Someone who knows what it means to be in trouble with the law, how it feels to have damaged another, but more importantly what it is like to have to live with the consequences, to live with regret. Someone, who has kept secrets, suffered great hardship, unimaginable pain, yet still he smiles and laughs as often as he can. I see, someone who demands in droves, but gives generously. I see a fiery temper, where the most atrocious things are uttered in moments of anger, but he means them not and almost everyone knows it. Those who do not, hurt his feelings. I see someone who knows things are as they are, and there is no point wishing they had been different. Unbelievably obstinate, downright stupid at times with flair for the rediculous, yet with the very special ability to speak to anyone and be awarded in turn with the eternal adoration of those who meet him. Myself included. I see a fountain of talent and a lifetime and more's worth of experience. In short, what I see is a limitless man, who has spent each day counting it as a precious gift, good or bad.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Midnight approaching

Its so dark outside right now!
All I can make out are vague shadows, and what should be mysterious,
perhaps even scary,
leaves me feeling cocooned and pleasantly alone. Its the reason,
although I'm sleepy, I don't care to waste these moments sleeping.
I like this quiet, the absolute stillness, where the only thing I hear is the wind.
Its the only time the smallest sounds seem loud.


Its the most annoying thing, when one is trying to think of a word and for some reason, it remains elusive.
Right until the moment you stop consciously thinking about it.
Which is when it will appear seemingly from nowhere, making itself known to you.
And yet it was already there, hovering all the while. Somewhere deep in the recesses, it could not forcefully be brought to the forefront.
It had to come of its own accord, when the time was right.
I'm awed and humbled - a divine state if ever there were one.
More later...

Monday, November 07, 2005

Love is...

The following question was posed to a group of 4 to 8 year olds:
"What does love mean?"
These were the answers...

1. When my grandma got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toe nails anymore. So my grandpa does it for her now all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love.
Rebecca - age 8

2. When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouths.
Billy - age 4

3. Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.
Kari -age 5

4. Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.
Chrissy - age 6

5. Love is what makes you smile when you're tired.
Terri -age 4

6. Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.
Danny - age 7

7. Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My mommy and my daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss.
Emily - age 8

8. Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.
Bobby - age 7

9. If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate.
Nikki - age 6

10. Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it every day.
Noelle - age 7

11. Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.
Tommy - age 6

12. During my piano recital, I was on stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore.
Cindy - age 8

13. My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.
Clare - age 6

14. Love is when mommy gives daddy the best piece of chicken.
Elaine -age 5

15. Love is when mommy sees daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.
Chris - age 7

16. Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.
Mary Ann - age 4

17. When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.
Karen - age 7

18. You really shouldn't say "I LOVE YOU" unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.
Jessica - age 8

And the winner...
A 4 year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly man who had just lost his wife. When he saw the man crying, the little boy went over into the man's yard and climbed on top of the man's lap and just sat there.
When the boy's mother asked him what he'd said to the neighbor, the little boy said,
"Nothing, I just helped him cry."

Sunday, November 06, 2005

Your smile

I didn't want to feel the way I do
And it doesn't exactly fill me with glee
I was doing just fine as I was
Perfectly comfortable with just being me
I'm trying to ignore it, pretend it isn't there
But your smile has become my smile
As idiotic as that may happen to sound
I've come too far off my safety isle

Saturday, November 05, 2005


Its very easy to pass judgement on the actions of our ancestors. Looking at any historical event that involved suffering, especially where the errors were plain for all to see even then, brings forth righteous statements of why the people at the time did not do more to change things.
If anything, there is more going on in this day and age. Large-scale problems that we all are very much aware of, problems that could be solved, if everyone stood to face them intent on finding the solution. Though aware just as they were, I rely almost completely on the ease of direct-debit to feel I am making an adequate contribution, to rid me of the guilt, by letting others make the stand on my behalf. And it actually works most of the time, which is the saddest part of the whole sorry mess.


"What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters compared to what lies within us"

The quintessential aspect buried for so long, was not changed. I reached the other end of the spectrum, reasonably secure and I liked it there, but it got kind of lonely and so I began travelling back along the very same road, I once had journeyed. I did not have to come too far to understand, it was actually a small place and no borders had been crossed. I, had been there all along. I felt like sitting down and wishing, just as I had done in the initial stage. I merely arrived.
This time, I'm going to have to keep my eyes open. I've been asking around and once, I was so sure, I had succeeded. I found myself twisting, knowing that is never a good thing, but seemingly impossible to deny. In doing so, the rest gets lost. At best, confused. Either way, it has sunk.
Denial, enforced or unknowing, now there is a choice. One is harder than the other, one is better than the other and they are one and the same. Naturally.

Friday, November 04, 2005


Darling Cleo is just about the sweetest person, I know. In the late autumn of her years now, she maintains the wide-eyed innocence of a child. There is truth in that statement, yet it contradicts the life she has lead and makes her quite an extraordinary character more than worthy of a 'tribute' here.
Born into a life of great priveledge, she was treated like a princess from the moment she arrived in the world. Indulged, through no fault of her own, she grew to have unrealistic expectations of life and more importantly the people in it, that had small chance of being realized. She met it, decked out in sparkly riches with a natural beauty and grace that needed no such enhancement, rich hope and assurance life would be easy, all of which were stripped from her momentarily. Instead of patience, she encountered annoyance, instead of compassion and understanding, she found disrespect and cold shoulders . As she had grown used to being treated like a princess, so too she grew used to being treated like nothing. Through it all, her heart has remained full of love and wide-open, and though the light in her eyes occasionally falters, it always wins through in the end.
I adore her for the infallible strength, not many credit her with (seeing her as a victim) and for having the most infectious, spirited laughter. She enriches this world, I just wish, she knew it.

I have a dream.

I have a dream.
A dream that one day malicious gossipers will finally find something worthwhile on which to utilize their spare time.
A dream that they may realize, deliberately causing chaos and sitting back to gleefully watch events play out can be severely injurious to the receiving parties.
A dream that they will comprehend the meaning of common decency, respect and fellow feeling.
And a dream that if they do have something to say about someone, they may say it to that person's face instead of behind their back.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

The answer to that age-old question...

"A smile is a curve that can set things straight."

Like seeing this picture as the first thing on this blog - should stay at the top at least a little longer :-)

Happy Thursday everyone!


I honestly want it back, since nothing matters there.
Nothing anyone says or does is able to make it through.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

"To be a success...

never let down and never let up."

I am blessed

Here in the silence, I say a prayer
Though I've never seen you, somehow I know you're there
You're in the faces of the people that I meet
You're as solid as the earth beneath my feet
So if I should complain
That all I have is not enough
Forgive me, I've been given so much and

I am blessed
Every time I look into my baby's eyes
I think of all the friends who've touched my life
I realize
In a world where some have more and some have less
I have love, and I am blessed

So many changes this world can put you through
Sometimes it's hard to find a way
A heart can get confused
But then I hold you and it all falls into place
You've given me what time cannot erase
So when I'm feeling down or feeling sorry for myself
I look around and its easy to tell....

That I am blessed
Every time I look into my baby's eyes
I think of all the friends who've touched my life
I realize
In this world where some have more and some have less

I have love

And I am

- "I am blessed" by Eternal

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Monday, October 31, 2005


I caught a few minutes of one of those RSPCA-type programs (Royal Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals), and I couldn't bear to watch the story featured. Had to switch it off. However, the images are now lodged in my mind intermixed with others and I cannot sleep for them.
It made me think about free will and how any person has the ability to commit any act, and all that really holds us back is our sense of conscience. Which furthermore is learned and not innate.
It takes a special kind of psychopath to torture an animal!
I witnessed it once.
When I say witness, I mean, I did my best to try and stop it, but was unable. I did (of course!) telephone the authorities and have the animal removed as soon as possible thereafter.

Free will.
In those moments of watching, I had the most violent thoughts of my life. Its very scary to have such thoughts pass through the mind. Not so much at the time, since anger and adrenalin are coursing through the body at top speed, but afterwards.
I punched him, once, square in the back. It didn't deter him or slow him.
What I really wanted was to pound him and to keep pounding on him, until he felt some degree of the pain he was putting this animal through, and then pound on him some more, until he had that same broken look in his eyes! And some more after that for good measure!

Was terribly frightening to realize, my thoughts could be equally as violent as his!

Sunday, October 30, 2005

Wonderful World, Beautiful People

I happened to be shown a picture from the Notting Hill Carnival the other day and instantly missed the diversity of London. I'm from that area and so the Carnival was always a big part of the summer, when I was growing up. Admittedly, it is a very different affair these days. Back then it was steel drums sounding out the Caribbean beat. Now, it seems to be shouting to the sound of heart-attack inducing boomboxes and crack is everywhere. But the picture aroused big-time happy nostalgia.
The Claddering. Leicester Square. Covent Garden. 'The House'. The National Art Gallery. Tower 42. Kaptan's. Holland park. Portobello Market.
Portobello Market. Probably the one place in the world where one can find every single 'type' of person on any given Saturday. The people of London :-)! - they are something special!

Self-made thought order - possibly very confusing to all others

This blog was up and running and the first post published within 10 minutes of learning what a blog was. Instead of writing "Testing", I wrote the following:
"Its said that time travels fast, when we are having fun, but I think the opposite is true. Its perfectly fine to approach the new year with renewed vigour, if one feels confident in the accomplishments of the year gone. Otherwise that year has been of little or no use and there is no way of getting it back...."
I'm starting to realize just how much has happened this year. It wasn't blatantly obvious to me, since I didn't make great leaps or bounds in those widely-accepted areas of career, relationships, and so on, but as I look back now, a little prematurely, I see it has been a thoroughly useful year thus far.
I love words. My home is full of books and newspaper clippings and writing. I've lost just about everything else at one point or another for one reason or another, but these have followed me and each has their place in a system of order. The words are organized into category and it is thereby very easy to find exactly the information, I want, when I need it at any given time. I've been keeping a journal for Maria, which I have been writing in since she was born, but it never occured to me to keep one for myself. "Today I went to ___'s house. We ate, we talked. Then I went home." A chronological series of events, boring unless it is something extraordinary. I didn't think to organize my thoughts in such a manner. Lay them out, so that I might read and analyze them at later dates, redirect and re-think them, change them. Doing so here worked miracles.
I've always had the unusual talent of attracting unbalanced people into my life and keeping them there. Once again, I may be making what sounds terribly self-gratulatory statements, but it made me feel good to help, or at least to try. Some no longer walk the Earth, so I wasn't always able to help change anything, but sometimes I was. Those feelings of having done good, having helped and feeling good about it were like a drug with the rest of the time being like a cold turkey, where thoughts turned inward to a problem I couldn't solve. I've concentrated on my own well-being twice in my life and only when I felt I was left with no other choice, but to finally face it. The first time around was serious. This time, it was simply a wish to improve life. Concentrating on me always made me feel terribly self-indulgent, but last time and now this time, I feel like I am able to give so much more because of it.
I've been learning to receive too. I'm not sure anyone will get that statement, but it's okay. I closed myself off in some ways, when I was five. I know, some people cannot remember back that far and so professing to know what thoughts were there at the time will sound far-fetched, but I remember back even earlier. I remember making a conscious decision born from need and it made me who I was to full extent and who I am now to a larger extent.
The whole needy versus receiving thing had always confused me, still does but not as much. I couldn't bear anyone thinking, I needed anything from them in anyway. It was a power, I was not able to give. Outward, I have needed no-one since I was a small child. In some ways, I realize, it's a little crazy. I've worn a mask afterall, so nobody in the outside world knows who I am. And I do mean nobody. I hate writing this kind of pshycho-babble idiocy, but it's true nonetheless that if nobody knows the real you, nobody can judge whether it is likable or not. Whatever people thought, good or bad, therefore didn't matter.
The words on this blog are me, for better or worse. The first six months or so, there were no readers that I knew of (except kitten, but you were 'safe' enough), when they started coming, I had to force myself to continue in that same manner. I felt unbelievably tempted to put up the barriers here, wear the mask so to speak, but I didn't. I wasn't always sure, if I was sometimes showing better sides. I would write a post, I would be sure would show me at my worst and it would be difficult to press publish post, but I'd make myself, once again hanging onto the thought, I didn't need any kind of acceptance of who I was.
Thing is, I came to understand, I always had, hence the mask, and now for the first time, I don't, at least, not as much. Or maybe that's still an inability to appear needy. I've certainly felt incredible pleasure at things people have said to me, despite following the contents, good and bad, of this blog. I feel completely undeserving, but also realize that's a habit I have learned and practised always. It's rediculously strange and hard to accept such nice things being said about things that are true and honest. I'm quite used to people deeming the person, I seem to be as likable, but it's the first time, it is about the reality with the bad, sad and confused as well as the redeeming qualities, that I myself like.
I've spent much time this year with good people, the two occasions that stand out are my 2 month trip to Asia and many of the acquaintances I have made here. Once again, I hesitate in possibly expressing 'neediness', but I honestly feel, I have made some long-distance but real friendships. People who are so open and welcoming, I cannot help but want to enter into that metaphorical embrace and to stay there, and even if it is fleeting, it's okay, because here and now are all that matter.
2005 has been a good year so far. I've received lots of blessings, I've learned many things and I have and have been changed. I feel thankful, but more importantly I feel comfortable feeling thankful. Believe me, that's major progress. Thank you.

New Life

I don't remember ever feeling the way I have the last couple of days. I don't know, how long it will last, but it is incredibly peaceful. There is no crisis looming that I have to deal with. I feel, there was never such a time before. That will sound strange, I know.
Other things that had ruled me for so long have been thrown out of court. I had tried everything through the years, talking, ignoring, but it was going through every aspect of my emotions concerning this matter here in this blog that brought me some peace. I can't ever forget, but I'm not thinking about it anymore. It's not hurting me, it hurt me. The chapter is done. I didn't dare believe, and so kept it to myself, here, now is the first real acknowledgement. I cannot describe what a relief this is. To not have my emotions crippled in the past.
I feel more alive than I have in years, perhaps ever. In fact, I'm sure, ever.
Everything is going to be okay.

Friday, October 28, 2005

At this moment

At this moment, I would give almost anything to be standing at the edge of a great cliff staring out across an uproarious, bulging, blustery sea. If it were raining, pouring furthermore, soaking me through to the skin all the better. I'd stretch my arms toward the sky, and feel everything.

Wednesday, October 26, 2005

Magic moments

The best parts of life are often the unexpected. A statement and an opinion, I am fully aware changes regularly on this blog from one extreme to the other :-). For the most part, this is how I feel.

It need not be the bigger things. The seemingly insignificant can just as often be extraordinary.

A couple of days ago, I saw a bald, tatooed tough-looking guy riding a baby-pink moped, just when I was feeling rediculously hurt and embarassed over the rudeness of a stranger. It was wonderful, like life throwing a little pick-me-up my way.

For a better example, I was sitting on the steps of my house. This one is a few years ago and it was one of those days that could quite happily have been skipped. I was feeling alone and it was being eerily accentuated by an unusual lack of people about on the street. It was practically soundless. A few minutes passed in this manner and then I heard singing. Not just regular singing either, but big, booming, happy singing. I couldn't see wherefrom it was coming, but it was getting closer and just then a priest sped by on a bicycle, smiling and waving when he saw me sitting there. I burst out laughing, and that little episode created a domino effect of happier times.

These types of magical moments happen all the time. At least, they do to me and the only adverse part is, I sometimes forget.

I once had a guy wrap himself up in bows and ribbons and present himself to me as a friend. That has to be classed as a magic moment, but for some reason I had forgotten, until recently.

I also remember the time and place, when someone said the nicest thing to me. I remember saying the words: 'That's the nicest thing, you've ever said to me!', but I could never remember afterwards, what was said.

On the other hand, I find, I sometimes remember what in actual fact are small gestures and elevate them to sublime events. I remember my father stroking my hair once, when I was sitting next to him. This is a perfectly perfect memory. I have a ton of those.

Lots of magic moments.

Lots of unexpected pleasure.

It seems to me, such opportunities for a magic moment present themselves often each day, but almost as often, we need to be consciously aware of them and to forcefully draw them to us.
Today was a magic moment-packed kind of a day, I believe in part because I was in a magic kind of mood and so more aware. Some I'll remember and some I may unfortunately forget, but they are well-worth having regardless - I highly recommend it.

The look of love

I saw the face I want today. I'm not ready for it just yet, not for another 50 years or so in fact, but it is unequivocally the one.
I met the most lovely elderly lady today and was mesmerized by her face and her manner. She had caramel-coloured eyes, so completely full of life, past and present, and light. Her laughter was constantly on the verge and must have broken out at least 50 times in the 15 minutes or so, that we were talking. And for no particular reason :-).
Her smile was permanent, though at varying angles, and I couldn't even imagine what her face would look like without it.
She just had the most wonderful face. I can't even describe it!
Full of love and happiness and kindness and memories. I want a face like that in the winter of my life. A face that tells a gloriously happy tale.
Beautiful woman!

Tuesday, October 25, 2005

"The Big Brag" & other random children's stories

I'm going to do something outside of my character (hope you agree!) and completely blow my own trumpet. I am an absolutely fan-f***ing-tastic dancer with 25+ years of practice! It's one of those things, I am convinced I could have made a great success of, if I had gone down that road. The West End wouldn't have known what hit it! ;-)
I had a lot of freedom and I never gave it any thought. I've mentioned once before, I began going to clubs (and drinking etc) when I was 11 years of age. I looked much older, which is how I easily got in and at the time it was great. For better or worse, I was pretty much partied out by the time I was old enough to do so legally. It's strange to think of now, especially since my daughter will be 11 in just 3 short years.
In actual fact, I started my dancefloor stint long before 11. We used to sail across the North Sea on the ferry 8 times a year. The ferry sails in the early evening and arrives in the morning and on board is all manner of entertainment. Variety shows in the lounge, films for all ages in the cinema, restaurants, swimming pools and so on.
My parents used to get seasick from the moment, we would get on board and would go lay down in the cabin. From the age of 5, I would head up to the discoteque as soon as it opened and stay until closing time. I would wear a wristwatch and every hour on the hour, I would have to run downstairs to let them know I was okay. During the hours though, I would have a fabulous time dancing in between all the adults.
I was thinking about this today and how those times must have been so much more 'safe' than today's times. Or maybe I was just plain lucky, since I also used to take a few cool-off breaks out on deck. I would even climb up onto the railings to properly enjoy the wind!
It's no wonder, I always worry so about something happening to my daughter - it's my own childhood exploits coming back to haunt me. The clincher is: I was one of those well-behaved children, the ones who would never do anything believed to be wrong or dangerous. She, on the other hand, is a let's-jump-off-the-roof-and-see-if-we-can-fly type.

She loves to dance too. This I knew. What I came to think today when I received her school photos is, she must have watched that 80's film 'Flashdance' at a friends house or something. As can be seen here>

Oops! Wrong picture.

This one was taken just before the one I mean and is the one I am sending a copy of to my parents in London.

Hold on...

Ah, here is it.

Now this one is a cropped part of the official class photo.

The one that all the other families get.

The one that features in the school year book.

And the local newspaper.


Now, I know, this is probably only true for me, being this child's mother and all, but (excuse me whilst I roll around on the floor laughing) this is one of the funniest things, I have ever seen!

Not that I told her that of course. :-)

Monday, October 24, 2005


For those who never felt it, it can be a hard thing to accept. It needn't be thoughts of being undeserving, but simply a fear of losing, what had never once been theirs. When touched, even by a solitary stroke, long repressed needs clamour to the surface seeking constant reassurance, it truly is. Constantly seeking and constantly failing to tame the need to seek it. Moods can be sky high and ever so quickly sink to the lowest depths in sickly fear that it is lost, when silence roars. You may stretch to try to capture it, feel it against your fingertips even, but it is fleeting and for all your trying, there seems no means of grasping it, no possibility of ever being able to hold on. It flitters and floats back and forth, teasing mercilessly, not even knowing you can't possibly stand it. You just can't and that's all there is to it. The heart aches, closing. Hope falters. And so, you may find yourself testing it. Showing the worst, fore at least then you can expect it to leave, to go away. At least then you would understand, it never truly was. Like it was never meant to be. You may think, it will be okay, but it isn't. It's too late. You've already been touched.

Shameful thoughts

I bit my tongue twice today, which is very unlike me. I'm not exactly sure why today was different. Years ago, I went through a change. Before that, I would just keep quiet and go lick my wounds in private, but not since. The norm now is refusing to let anyone get away with being rude or any other such disrespectful behaviour. Confrontation is no longer my enermy. Having once been the proverbial doormat, I can't help but take pride in this.
I think perhaps, I was in much too good a mood today to bother. I had a Night Fever spring in my step, as I left the house this morning and I was thoroughly determined to let no person or thing spoil that. Nevertheless, the first incident knocked me for six for a good 20 minutes.
I was feeling righteous, increasingly fuming and on the verge of speaking my mind. In this state, I would habitually go into what friends and family refer to as my "lawyer mode". I argue my case, a hundred and fifty words a minute and I always, always win, simply because I flat out refuse to give up (stubborn!).
So there I was, mentally preparing my argument, emotionally preparing to do battle and the thoughts occured to me: Is it really worth it? Why waste time and energy?!
This may sound like a small thing, but was to me quite a big deal. I decided long ago never ever to back down from a 'fight' and I never do. That's not to say, I cause them, just that if someone wants to face me, I will willingly face them right back. And more.
Today, I shook this attitude off.
Not once, but twice.
before anyone has the impression, I did a good thing, I must hasten to admit, it wasn't as simple as all that. I did, almost like an involuntary reflex, have to have a pop at them in my mind first, a small token of payback in order to gain some satisfaction.
With the first, it occured to me the reason he was rude for no particular reason had to be because he was such a jerk and therefore in all likelihood hadn't had a woman in well over a decade. In short, his frustration made him bad-tempered (I know, nasty!).
With the second, I just pure and simply forgave him, since he reminded me in manner of Mr. Bean and pity replaced the spot temporarily occupied by anger (I know, even nastier!).
I feel quite ashamed of these nasty thoughts, hence this post, and I know, had I spoken up instead, there would have been no nastiness involved, but rather straightforward statements listing what I thought was wrong about their behaviour.
Conclusion: I should go with the confrontation.

Sunday, October 23, 2005


I don't think you do
I see you acting
I play along
You don't even know
I'm pretending more than you
You don't see, how I fit
You probably think that's me
Most of the time
I don't even mind it
As long as you are there
If I could
If I had a choice
I wouldn't keep trying
I wouldn't care
Dumbness has to be trying
Like I always have
To no avail
Much more than
Never knowing
Some people can't see
Even when you're shouting
In their face
Leave me alone
Don't do that
For me


A smile is the single most infectious thing in the world. It is highly contagious and breeds at the speed of light.

Winter Wonderland

It annoys me no end that department stores insist on decorating for Christmas from the month of September. Already, I find myself walking around singing 'Winter Wonderland', a song which I heartily adore and one that instantly puts me in a roll-about-in-the-snow-and-snuggle-up-in-front-of-the-fire-to-get-warmed-up-again joyful mood, but with two months to go until Christmas, starting now means I risk being all carolled out by then.


Follow the passion
That's within' you
Living the truth
Will set you free
From Velvet Rope, by Janet Jackson

I've been listening to both Heart and Reason, which is giving me an almighty earache, since they just cannot stop arguing!
Argue, argue, argue, all day long, I swear, they are worse than a couple of kids fighting over a favourite toy.
I'm trying to be a good role-model and figure out which of them is right, but it isn't at all easy trying to decipher this information, when they are throwing such noisy tantrums.
Besides which, truth be known I have a secret favourite and since I know this is bad thing, I feel tempted to give precedence to the other, which in turn may or may not be the right thing to do.
Argue, argue, argue.
Enough, already!
I think, I am just going to have to put my foot down and send them both to their respective chambers, until they have learnt how to behave in an appropriate manner!
How easy it would be, quiet too, if they could just learn to get along.
"I am prepared to go anywhere, provided it be forward."

- David Livingstone

Saturday, October 22, 2005

Involuntary visions of the housekeeper giving me a backrub brought about the thought:

I wish, I were bi-sexual, since it would be an easy way to instantly increase my prospects by up to 51%.

The kitchen is closed due to illness

-I'm sick of cooking!

Or rather I'm sick of always doing the cooking. Comes with living in a household of two, where the only other person is a minor.

And cooking is just one of the many things, I always have to do!

I've buildt extra rooms,
put up wallpaper,
painted and decorated,
designed and constructed playhouses.

I do the shopping,
the gardening,
the washing,
the banking.

I change the sheets,
the fuses,
the channel,
the decor.

I've hung curtains,
the kitchen clock.

I wash the windows,
the clothes,
the crockery,
the garden furniture.

I bring home the bacon,
make the decisions,
raise, love and discipline the child,
take out the trash.

I water the plants,
tend to visitors,
answer the phone,
open the door when the bell rings.

I buy the presents,
book appointments,
wash the floors,
dust the furniture.

I do the heavy lifting,
fix what is broken when possible,
sharpen the knives,
bleed the radiators.

I buy the newspaper,
pick up the drycleaning,
make the coffee,
clean the oven.

I pack the lunches,
chop the vegatables,
iron the shirts,
fill the vases.

I pick up the holiday brochures,
shake the rug,
open the curtains,
fluff the pillows.

To name but a few.

And as said, it's always, ALWAYS my turn to make dinner!

So I've decided, it's about time I got some help.

Someone to take the pressure off me a little.
Someone to share the responsibilities with.

But most importantly, someone to greet me at the door with a warm smile and ask me how my day went.

Yes, I think, it is definitely time, I hired a housekeeper.

Friday, October 21, 2005

Morning Glory

Awakening before dawn breaks brings double reward. It makes the day seem endless and overflowing with promise and opportunity and there is just something so very special about watching the sun take that first peak at the horizon. No matter the season or the temperature, stepping outdoors for a few minutes especially on frosty, dewy mornings, where a deep intake of cool air momentarily awakens every bone and fibre, somehow never fails to remind the heart, mind and soul that just about anything is possible.

Thursday, October 20, 2005


I love problems.
Or rather I love the feeling of solving them.
I woke this morning and made a list of the kind 'requiring urgent attention' and there were, wait for it......, 7! Half of those had my mind in a tailspin wondering how in the world, I would be able to find a solution. Still, never one to back down from a challenge, I got up extra early and spent most of the day travelling around the city talking to a handful of disrespectful idiots.
I love disresptectful idiots too. Or rather, I love the reaction they evoke in me. This is when it is a real plus to be extremely stubborn and a healthy amount of rage doesn't detract from the objective either. The objective being getting things to go my way.
I may have fabulous debating skills or just a mouth that gives the impression it will run on forever making them give in, either way it doesn't really matter.
My list for tomorrow is down to 3.
After today's 4, tomorrow's 3 should be a breeze.
(I hope).

The future Christian XI

Internet connection problems at home - be back a.s.a.p.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

The Game of Love

(remember the Wayne Fontana song anyone?)
...would be an awful lot easier, if we could pick and choose for whom we develop feelings. More often than not, they seem to arise over someone unsuitable, whilst there are a ton, well, not quite a ton, but plenty of guys out there, who have much to offer. I've been told, I'm way too fussy - gosh, I hope not! I don't have a particular physical type that I go for (though green eyes, a sunny disposition and a hint of cheeky are an excellent start), or a list of impossible prerequisites that must be adhered to, but perhaps I do sign-off too readily. In fact, I know I do, the greater the potential, the greater the haste. It's all fun and games, until someone gets serious.
(Just looked out the window, now that it is light, and there is frost covering the grass and trees - winter is around the corner, which lasts thrice as long as summer these days. That's it! Hot chocolate is definitely called for, even at this early hour, warmth and decadence, and all in a cup no less).
Admittedly, nothing has changed and I am still purposely turning away my chances for this one aspect of happiness. The best offence is a good defence. Here's hoping there are unlimited chances.
Psst, here's a secret: I may knowingly or unknowingly be using one very bad relationship way in the past as an excuse not to enter into a lasting, serious one here in the present, and I may knowingly or unknowingly have been doing this, because rather than having cured completely certain debilitating mindsets, I have merely suppressed what remained.
There's that word again: boring!
I'm starting to wonder, if it is worth it. The world needs a few batty old ladies, it just wouldn't be the same without. You know the type, I'm sure, the ones who go on and on and on and on about the same subject.
Thanks for the use of the couch. Until the next session...