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...

You gotta love the Brits

Any excuse to get nekkid!

From the Hello Magazine website:

"Campaigners stage a naked protest against I.D. Cards outside Parliament"

Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Confessions cont.

At the weekend, I tripped over a potential piece of happiness and instinctively gave it a huge boot for being so heartily shocking. Thing is, I shouldn't really have been so shocked, as it has been lying about the place on and off for a while now, but I guess, old habits die hard.


It was just reported, a body has been found with an exceptionally large arse and a peasized brain. They haven't been able to identify yet. Please leave a comment to let those who may be worried know, it isn't you!

Hang on whilst I analyze this a while

Sometimes we hang on to what is comfortable rather than what is right.

Shot, anyone?

I usually stay well away from drinkers. By drinkers, I mean people who get drunk. There is a clear line between merry, which can make 'serious' people an awful lot funnier and drunk, which makes them unpredictale. Some just fall asleep and others get lewd and gropy, whilst the worst are probably those who get aggresive.
Living in a new place, I am of course making an effort to accept all invitations to various functions, dinnerparties, evening coffees etc. Each time, I step in with an open mind, but Denmark, just like England, is a through and through drinking culture. People take pride in getting rat-arsed on a regular basis and there are no class or age distinctions.
I've been 'more than merry' twice in the last 10 years. Once when I discovered "Sort Svin", which tastes great and its effects kind of sneak up on you from behind, and once when I was in the mood to go severly overboard in every way. These days, I'm a half-a-glass-of-wine-1-to-2-beers-every-once-in-a-while type and if anywhere near 'drinkers', I don't touch the stuff at all.
So what happens is, I keep showing up at these parties but seldom end up staying for more than an hour or so. Enough time to give it a chance and plenty of time to realize, it will be no different from the last one. Leaving a trail of what's-up-with-her? behind me. I find that funny. In fact, I find it hilarious, which speaks volumes on how my mind works, I'm sure.
Loosen up!
Hey, no problem. In the proper atmosphere, and not when there are kids around or when I have to make my way home through darkened alleys. I went to a 5-year-olds birthday party and at least half the adults got rowdy after drinking too much. The children don't blink an eye. They are used to watching grown people turn to bumbling idiots before their very eyes, peeing in the garden, falling over their own feet, vomiting across the table and falling asleep in the corner.
Like I said, class and age make no difference - there is general consensus that this is how one has a good time. Sundays are always quiet, because everyone is at home nursing a hangover on the couch.
This, like the other places I have lived, will soon put me into a different category. I'm the friend to talk to, if there is a problem, the one to go to the gym with, tivoli, to try out a new restaurant, to help out with some job that needs doing, and not the one to call upon to sit in a circle of drunken idiocy.
The misinterpretation here could be, I'm against silly. I'm not. Far from it.
I just don't need alcohol to make me silly, I'm perfectly capable of being that without, so what I often get is people thinking I've had a bit too much when really I've had nothing at all.
What I love is doing what is least expected, occasionally I do it purposely, most times that's just how things are.
Perhaps it's just a way of keeping my distance.
Of side-stepping the seemingly elusive understanding.
Of rejoicing in the feeling of being right.
Behold the speck and what wonderous powers it has.

Sunday, October 16, 2005


Nasty & Nice

For years, I would listen to my grandmother and her twin sister talk about finding their biological mother. It was a great desire and most coveted wish. At one point, some 20 years ago, they made enquiries and were informed she had passed on a year earlier. They drove up north to find her grave and pay their respects.

Just a few years later, the sisters too were no longer with us. The document they had obtained, which listed the mother's name, date of birth and address at the time were passed to my uncle. Again for years, I would listen to the next generation talk of how they would like to make more enquiries, perhaps even find some unknown family, but talk was as far as it went. As soon as I was old enough, I would offer to do the legwork, if they would just pass me the information. It was agreed upon many times, but once again, it was talk and no action.

A year ago today, I visited my uncle and he finally handed me the document. He had kept meaning to, he said, but kept forgetting. Upon his enquiry, I told him the first step would be the Internet and he offered me the use of his computer, whilst he made a phonecall. The first thing I did was check the address at which my biological great-grandmother had resided at the time of the twins birth.

Less than a minute later, I had found their brother. He was still living at the same address. I never imagined, it would be that easy.

I made the strangest phonecall that evening, a phonecall that was both terribly nasty and terribly nice. I phoned this man to tell him, he had two sisters, that they were both long gone, but that there were 26 descendants eager to meet him. We all (almost all) rushed up the next day to see him. We had such high expectations, but differing and individual. I could see many of them not being able to hide, they had expected something and someone quite different. What we found was a sad, lonely man living in rather squalid quarters with a well-stocked barcupboard. I could see them literally taking a step backwards and I refuse to apologuise for my disgust at this behaviour.

What I found was a man that incorporated the most quintessential aspects of my grandmother's character, exactly what I had hoped to find. A warm and loving heart and in exactly the right place. I've asked him since whether that phonecall was more nasty than nice, but he is so endearingly grateful for having found some family and insists it was the best day of his life.

I feel so bad for the fact that none of the others have contacted him since, but my hints go unheeded. They'll ask once in a while, as they know we email each other each night and see each other when opportunity permits, but that is as far as their interest goes. In turn, I fill him in on the latest family news and he has never once mentioned the silence, though I know he feels it. And so, although the two of us have found each other, a relationship for which we both feel completely blessed, the question of nasty versus nice forever knocks upon my conscience.

- Never put off 'til tomorrow, what can be accomplished today, it could give cause for regret.
- Snobs are knobheads.

10 giggles

I'm not the only one, I'm sure, who when going about my daily routine will suddenly think of some funny past event and end up giggling again in the present. It can of course cause some strange looks from one's surroundings, but that's just part and parcel.
I had the idea one day to note down 10 such events on a piece of card and carry it with me in my purse. When someone or something puts a downer on my mood, I'll get out the list and before long, smiles and laughter reign once again. It works a treat everytime.

Saturday, October 15, 2005

Bewitched Tart

Murder Intrigue Secrets and Lies
Incestuous relations and criminal ties
Witches in corners casting a spell
Dooming the rest of us to a life of hell
Softness gets trampled pain that smarts
And all because of that stupid tart
It's all so long ago but still present
The glow of hatred is effervescent
Twisting knives hypocritical oaths
Feigned love when really they loathe
Parallels rule wherever I look
Life is stranger than the fictional book


Viva La Disco

What does one do, when there is a great urge to dance the night away and no babysitter.

Boogie in the livingroom of course! :-)


Taken in October 1997, this is my most cherished picture and the one with the most stories in it.

My elder brother (middle) had just been for a dip in the sea.
Bunkers line the coast forever reminders of the war. When the tide is out, one can explore inside many of them. On that day, we used one as a changing room.
He had been living in Italy for a year after winning back his Italien girlfriend.
Very tanned, his bottom looked as white as snow compared to the rest of him. Contagious giggles all around that were not gone yet, as this picture was taken.
Giggles even now.
We'd only just begun talking again after two years of silence. I'd been forced to defend myself.
He had just asked his girlfriend to marry him.
She took this picture. She and I were pregnant at the time. My daughter was born just a month later.
Theirs four months after that. I've only seen her once.
I'd sneaked out of my house and knew there would be hell to pay,when I got home. I had to borrow a jacket.
My father's life was threatened that day.
Mine was spared.
We'd driven all around the Fjord at high speeds, free and in high spirits. Lots of laughter.
Five of us, including the man I had secretly loved.
The night before, the three guys had been involved in a fight and were bragging about knocking teeth out.
She, not entirely in control of her anorexia, ran to the toilet just after to get rid of half a prawn sandwich.
Whilst she was there, I found out, he was still involved in stuff, he shouldn't be.
He smiled, as he told me, and I realized his damaged facial nerves were no longer obvious at any other time.
He was a fast train about to derail.
I have one crazy superstition (everyone can be forgiven for one).
Why we took this picture, I don't know.
But it is my favourite.

Friday, October 14, 2005

Thursday, October 13, 2005


" 'Cause I'm just a soul whose intentions are good.
Oh Lord, please don't let me be misunderstood."
(Love Joe Cocker!!!)

Understanding is perhaps what most of us desire more than anything else, understanding for who we are and for what we feel. Somethings have to be experienced to be fully understood, however even then, one should be able to expect a little sensitivity.
I wonder sometimes what drives certain people, whether it is ignorance, insensitivity or merely an attitude of 'who the hell cares!'. I would think, it takes less effort to think of a kind response to someone looking for understanding, than one that cuts. When it happens on a regular basis, one cannot help but reach the conclusion, they know exactly what they are doing and worse still are doing it deliberately.
Such people, I shall never understand.

Wednesday, October 12, 2005

May the angels watch over your babies

One hears about horrendous crime being perpertrated upon the innocent all the time - this is the world in which we live. Each time the thoughts are the same, sadness, pity, horror, anger. Some stories take up residence never to be forgotten. In some way or another they stand out from the rest. Sometimes it is due to follow-up stories about the victims, the type of person they were and who they left behind. Other times it may be the severity of a crime that means it cannot be forgotten. This time, it is both of those, and more.

My neighbour just opposite was murdered yesterday morning. As I left the house, police had just arrived and were cordoning off the area. Today, I have the details.
She was a 29 year old single mother of two, who had moved to Denmark a few years ago. Whilst her children were respectively at school and nursery, their father, with whom they were no longer in contact, entered the house and attacked her. The newspapers headlines are using words such as 'frenzy' and 'butcher', the quiet, shocked conversations here are describing a bloodbath.
The positive aspects are the children were not home and their father is already in custody.

Thoughts of this poor woman overwhelm me.
I can't stop thinking of her babies.
And knowing they must have been her last thought.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

Your Outrageous Name is:
Ivana B. Laid
Outrageous Name Generator

Rough Draft

Our careers have become so much a part of who we are, how we are perceived and how we are judged. There is a theory that states; the vast majority of people will have 3 significant vocations during their lifetime. I've looked around at the older generation and it seems true in very many cases.

Fault #2 was a lack of direction. It isn't completely true in that I do have an ultimate goal, but along the way admittedly I am bumbling.

I began working full-time at the age of 13 (after school) and gave up the 9-5 gig, when I realized that the nanny was the one present for all the firsts, whilst I was out working. I was spending tops 4 waking hours a day with my daughter. Since then, I've moulded my schedule and revised it many times, resulting in a number of different jobs, the most fun being mural painting (nurseries and children's rooms), the most frequent office work (sales, accounts, reception) and the most recent tutoring, translating and bookkeeping.

I've done the same with education, studying a range of subjects, taking an extra year here and there in order to do more. I've just started back to University again, this time to obtain qualifications to teach , which I will probably do for a shorter amount of time than it will take me to obtain said qualifications. Fault #15 I'm easily bored with where I am and what I am doing and #26 Prone to...leap straight-out into the big things.

The idea formed after I gave a series of talks at local schools and next thing I knew, I'd enrolled. So now I am a student again (along with the side gigs of book-keeping, translating and soon working with problem families), however this is where Fault #25 'I analyze everything' comes into the picture and the thought keeps popping in: why am I here and where exactly am I going?

The truth: I have no idea!
The irony: through the different areas of study and the wide range of jobs, I've never done what I always wanted to do. My plan was to be a psychiatrist, but at the time it came to choose study paths, I didn't think, I had the right to ever hope of being able to help other people considering how I myself was thinking. Instead of taking the road, I always thought I would and in all likelihood should have done, I hopped on a plane to Asia, didn't come back for a year and when I went to University, it was to study something else.

Conclusion: At some point, I should like feel passionate and there-to-stay about even 1 significant vocation and until then, when people ask me what I do for a living, I'll just have to tell them, I am a bumbler, and let them think what they will.

Monday, October 10, 2005

Peaceful dreams

Peaceful dreams as the sun sets tonight and on all other nights is what I wish for you, my friend.


The earth shaking
The rocks crumbling
The gaping, grasping ground
The quickened beat of your heart
The dread in another's eyes
The fear that surrounds
The roofs crashing
The walls falling
The rumble from all around
The loss of what was known
The loss of what was seen
The loss of familiar sounds

Sunday, October 09, 2005

See things from a different perspective

Fault #28

Sometimes I make terrible decisions.

Fault #27

I frequently get my priorities mixed-up.

Fault #26

Prone to procrastinate over the little things and leap straight-out into the big things.

Fault #25

I analyze everything.

Fault #24

Guilty of judging people completely on visual impression in certain situations.

Fault #23

Will succumb to self-pity on occasion.

Fault #22

I want too many things, thus am never satisfied.

Fault #21

Anger and frustration mounts quickly, when there is something I cannot do.

Fault #20

I'm terribly fussy.

Fault #19

I have an addictive personality and little will-power.

Fault #18

I'm ashamed of my softer sides and will do anything to hide them from most people.

Fault #17

My personal space is too large and I become skittish, when it is entered without invitation.

Saturday, October 08, 2005

Fault #16

Misplaced pride keeps me from asking for help, even when I badly need it.

Fault #15

I'm easily bored with where I am and what I am doing - thoughts of greener grass.

Fault #14

I have no trot, it's either standstill or full galop.

Fault #12

I waste an awful lot of time trying to make sense of the senseless.

Fault #13

I'm too emotional on the inside and not emotional enough on the outside.

Fault #11

I make too many presumptions about other people's thoughts and motives.

Now, that's art!

Lovely Jubbly!

Fault #10

I'm not much of a talker (believe it or not :-))

Fault #9

I'm a more of a dreamer than a go-getter.

Fault #8

I'm the master of sarcasm when angry.

Fault #7

I have opinions on certain things that I refuse to change regardless of how good an argument is presented.

Fault #6

I'm grumpy when I have not had enough sleep - at least until I have my 2nd cup of coffee.

Fault #5

I worry too much.

Take me as I am

I can understand how you'd be so confused, I don't envy you,
I'm a little bit of everything, All rolled into one
I'm a bitch, I'm a lover, I'm a child, I'm a mother,
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint, I do not feel ashamed,
I'm your hell, I'm your dream,
I'm nothing in between, So take me as I am,
This may mean, You'll have to be a stronger man,
Rest assure that, When I start to make you nervous,
And I'm going to extremes,
Tomorrow I will change, And today won't mean a thing
Just when you think, You got me figured out,
The season's already changing,
You do what you do, And don't try to save me
I'm a bitch, I'm a tease, I'm a goddess, On my knees,
When you hurt, When you suffer, I'm your angel undercover,
I've been numb, I'm revived, Can't say I'm not alive,

Extracts from 'Bitch' by Meredith Brook

Fault #4

Once the line is crossed, I will never forget.

Fault #3

Mess and chaos, physical or emotional, mine or other's, freaks me out - feel compelled to sort it.

Fault #2

Lacking in direction - I have no idea where I am headed.

"So self-aware, so full of shit
So indecisive, so adament"

Fault #1

Stubborn, but only when I know I am 100% right!

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Justin's challenge: The Cast

Glenn Close as 'Mum'. I've seen Glenn in a vast variety of different roles and a few of them reminded me much of my mother, though they are chalk and cheese appearance-wise. Difficult to cast, but I think, Glenn is up to it.

My father would be played by Nick Nolte.
Keywords: integrity, generous, demanding, funny, volatile, intelligent, tireless, artistic, gruff but extremely sensitive, argumentative, gracious, likable.

I would cast Dean Cain as my younger brother mostly due to the fact they are very similar appearance-wise. (ref. to Superman) Two good but very different sides to his personality.

James Dean as my older brother, Rebel without a cause.

Tiffany cast Cameron Diaz as me, Justin cast Charlize Theron as me.
Kate Winslet is just Kate;
"Come on, guys, it's only me!"

Tiffany's shoes could perhaps be filled by Winona Ryder. They both bring to mind the (flattering in my book) term 'Pixie'. They are both petite/larger than life, sweet, innocent/naughty, energetic, bouncy, very sensitive and very strong.

Trée: I could see Michael Landon bringing a little 'Charles Ingalls' to this role, but not without the incorporation of some of Dennis Quaid's zest and twinkle.

Sandra Bullock is a woman who seems to know how to have a good time. She's soft, but knows how to take care of herself. She is a carer.
I think, she'd do an excellent job in the role of Keshi.

Both having been fans of Neighbours at some point, I'm sure, you will remember Natalie Imbruglia's role of Beth, Sass. Endearingly cute in everyway.

I don't know much about Angelina Jolie (have never seen a movie with her in it), but my impression of her is she is a man-magnet with dreams of finding Mr. happily-ever-after. If not for that, her long dark hair reminds me of Linny.

SweetbabyK to be played by Drew Barrymore. Essentially good and precious, and underneath there's a whole heap of zest.

This is a small production with a budget in accordance,
besides time is money,
and so the final role goes to...
Kenneth Branagh

as Justin.

I've seen Kenneth in several theatre productions and he was amazing.
Besides that he is an exceptionally friendly guy
and cute too ;-)

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

George was my first

George was my very first and I cannot help but think about him sometimes. He was much older than me, but it didn't matter. There was a certain charm about him despite the obvious dents the years had presented him. He taught me all I needed to know, when to go slow, when to pick up pace. He was quiet mostly. He never complained, not when I accidently lost him or even when I made him purple all over in the belated spirit of Hippie love. We weren't together long. It was my fault - I passed him up for a younger model. All these years later though, I still miss that little runaround.


The sinking can in their panic pull others under in an attempt to save their own skin, but this action will not fare them any closer to dry land and may just leave both parties in extemely deep water. One cannot however hold them fully accountable for this potentially harmful instinct. Somehow along the way they missed the lessons.

It's all well and good, if they admit this particular inability, but some like one woman I know will try to hide it by continuously going back into the same stretch of water. Keeping up appearances in front of the crowds, whilst attempting to stay in the shallow end. Shallowness, however, will ultimately lead to trouble, but regardless of the many warnings signs posted along the way, she never realizes the consequences of her actions, until she begins to feel them upon her own person. Even after having found herself in deep water many times, she cannot help but have another attempt, optimistic she will somehow float. Time and again, she invariably loses her footing and is unable to keep her head above the water and that is when a high-pitched scream will resonate through the air.

Despite having rushed in too many times, the speed with which I do has not lessened over the years. I almost got pulled under a few times, until I figured out, I needed to incapacitate her, to simply take over until firm ground was once again found. The current can be frightfully strong and can consume every ounce of energy. At such times, I have felt like I would never succeed.

Others have advised me to let someone else take over the lookout post or to simply leave it unmanned and I have to admit, it would be nice not to have to constantly scan for potential trouble, but I have been doing it since I was a small child, thus it is a learned response and a hard habit to break. Besides, it has always been my name she calls, to not answer therefore would be impossible. I just wish we didn't have to go through all the panic first, that she would come along without clambering. Perhaps even finally decide to attend to lessons.

Monday, October 03, 2005

Mangled Monday

It is an undeniable fact that at times, no matter what one does, things inevitably turn to crap! Much too often, it feels as if "it is just one damn thing after another". As if, the moment contentment is within reach, some setback or another will sneak up from behind and deliver a fully-fledged kick to the rear for daring to be so presumptuous.
The point defies comprehension.

Home is where the heart is

but where on Earth is that.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

As the wildness re-enters her soul

She prepares to pounce!

Good for something

The Danes are known for their bacon, butter, lego, B&O, Carlsberg, rudely-named sweets like 'Big Tits' and 'Doggy Farts', Hans Christian Andersen and not much else, though to be fair, it is a small country.
However, their greatest talent has to be making silly songs. Only a select few have been translated into English versions, amongst these the golden oldie: "There's a dogshit in my garden".
It seems a real shame, since everyone should be able to appreciate such talent as wrote "I'm going upstairs for a nap!" with the unforgettable lyrics: "In the old days we awoke to a cosy little morning f***, now we are woken by the pounding of a rubber duck!"
And the world at large definitely missed out with regard to one of our most recent superhits entitled: "Take your pants off!". It is a saga filled with twists and turns all of which are repurcussions of one bad date against a barbed-wire fence.
The 'undiscovered' talent here is just limitless!


I'm often teased for the manner in which I speak. There are certain formalities that I observe without conscious thought that make the line between people known to me and those unknown clear.
This is more pronounced within the Danish language, where there are distinct variations in how one would address a person based on whether they are known at all, known somewhat or known well. These days absolutely nobody, save the royal family and other such prestigious people, uses anything other than the informal address in any given situation. The blue-blooded in other words and regular me :-).
I often encounter amusement and still it cannot quell this habit drilled into me throughout thrice-yearly holidays (although reading Jane Austin religiously throughout my youth certainly was not without impact). This, along with a penchant for hats that I love to wear to any or no occasion, is regarded within the family as my grandmother's most entertaining legacy.

That's what happens, when you are in too much of a hurry to meet the other cyclists at the creek!

Saturday, October 01, 2005

Wonderful day

I spent today with old friends (and a couple of new ones) and had the most terrific time. It was just so wonderful seeing them. In some cases, it had been years upon years since we last were together. Friendships such as these that have such solid foundations, unforgettable memories and the strongest of love never fade, thus although a great amount of time may pass between one get-together and the next, everything picks up exactly where it left off and the warmth of emotion that flows is palpable. It's family.
A wonderful, wonderful day!

Whose denying whom

There is a man in my life, who is convinced I want him regardless of what I say to the contrary.
To make matters even more perplexing, he keeps saying things to let me know, he is not interested.
This has been going on for almost a decade, yet I never really thought about the strangeness of it all until recently.
Either I am sending off signals that I am not even aware of, i.e. I am in denial.
Or he protests, because he is in denial.

'Do me a favour!'

Experience has taught me to a certain extent, life is far simpler if one deters from relying on others.
Therefore, I don't ask for favours.
And I rarely accept offered favours.
Sometimes, however, people will insist and it becomes rude to decline.
In these cases, I certainly expect the favour to be done.
When it isn't, such as now, it reconfirms the lesson.
'Now' would have been simpler, had I declined.
Now there is a grievance that would not otherwise have seen the light of day.
It aggrevates me fiercely, especially since when asked for a favour or an offered favour accepted, I do all in my power to fulfill the obligation and I do it as soon as possible.