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Wednesday, 16 July 2014

Jonah from Tonga

Everybody knows Hendrix. He is even more famous than the one he borrowed his name from. You guessed right...Jimi. I blogged so many times about him...and if I'd keep doing that, he may be more popular than Paris. No, not the town! So if you never heard about Hendrix is just because you didn't want to. Otherwise he is everywhere. Just google him. He has more hits than the Pope! However, let me just remind you that Hendrix is my 15 months old puppy, black like the darkest night, stubborn, demanding and naughty. Hendrix is everything to me even if, back in my Auckland home, he chewed everything he was able to, starting with cables, couches, chairs, carpets, trees and even....a metal lamp. I told you he was stubborn. He escaped my property as many times as he felt like it and the neighbourhood's biggest task was to catch him and bring him back home. Nobody got upset because everybody knew how playful and lovely Hendrix can be. Plus I rewarded the lucky ones with free Personal Training sessions. But this is confidential! Things changed though when I moved to a small area in Coromandel peninsula. Even if he is just a puppy, Hendrix is huge and some neighbours thought that his soul may be as black as his fur. But this is not the case at all. He is a lovely, naughty puppy...and he is mine. And because he is, also because I am more stubborn than he can be, I decided to enrol him in a school....doggy school. 

So here I was, at 7pm in the Placemakers carpark....hoping that a miracle would happen and the course would be canceled. But it was not! So I hopped off my car with Hendrix beside me. Not before I checked I had everything the dog whisperer required me to bring. Not a lot though: a soft collar (brand new, blue and very smart by the way!), poo bags and treats. I looked at other dog owners entering the warehouse with small bags of doggy treats and I thought to myself "no, that was nothing for a dog like mine!". So I filled in all my pockets with all sorts of tasty treats for my dear Hendrix baby, up to the point where I felt like too heavy to walk. And I entered...and that's when the show started. Nothing like my son's or my daughter's first day at school. There were a few tears back then....but nothing major. Third time at school, I knew how to handle this, I thought. But I didn't. Firstly, very excited of seeing so many dogs around, Hendrix started pulling, yelling and barking. Just one of Hendrix' normal tantrums. Anyway, the smart leash broke, but at least it lasted while we made the big entrance!

The trainer already met my puppy at the private session I paid her for. She also knew that this one was a worry! So, after she pet the trouble maker on the back,  she tried to speak to other dog owners. Tried is correct, because nothing and nobody can cover Hendrix' voice. They may understood her, but I doubted. Anyway they all stood in a circle with their well behaved dogs at their left. At some point, I wondered why were they attending the obedience school. Their dogs were obedient alright. Their problem how they spent their money! So back to the circle. Not us tough! We, Hendrix and I, had to walk through the isles...to calm the beast down. It's a tactical move, the trainer told me. "Just walk", the dog whisperer said, "he will calm down"....but he didn't. So we walked and from time to time I tried to pull him closer to the circle. Just to hear what the trainer told others. But I didn't...Hendrix barked continously!

A haft an hour later, tired of walks, Hendrix started spitting himself. That was something new, I thought. Full of all sorts of gluey, disgusting spit, the boy decided to get closer to the circle .... exactly at the moment when dogs where required to sit. Now, this was our moment to shine! Mum and baby boy together! Hendrix can be naughty and demanding, but he is smart and he knows all the tricks. He sits and shakes and lays down and even rolls on command. So, I have to proudly tell you that he was the only one doing what the trainer asked to. All eyes on me! Exactly like in Will I Am and Britney's song! Wait a sec. I forgot to tell you that we still had to walk away from the crowd in between all those "sit"and "down" commands....but at least we shined! Not so much, because a few minutes later, Hendrix discovered on the ceiling some invisible birds he started chasing. Then, under the racks, some invisible mice he chased too! In the meantime, 12 other dogs sat calm in the circle. With them, the trainer's own 3 dogs that looked only in their owner's eyes. I tried catching Hendrix' sight, but he was to preoccupied looking at other dogs. Maybe he didn't want to spit himself. Maybe he tried to spit them....as a statement of his mood!

Should I continue? Maybe not! All I have to say is that an hour later (the longest hour in my whole life!) we, humans, were handed files with homework to do. Lots of it! That I am decided to do with Hendrix...no matter what! Not because I have too much time on my sleeve. The reason is in the paperwork given by my doggy's trainer. It's written there that not all the dogs would graduate....and I really want my Hendrix to get that nice green with pure gold writing certificate. And if he wouldn't, it's just because he is not one of those geeky ones! Hendrix may not be obedient, but at least he has character....and he is not boring like others....And to be honest, I am sure I found Hendrix' twin. Jonah from Tonga, of course! :)

Click here to email Brigitte

Tuesday, 8 July 2014

Hollywood, here I come! :)

Sometimes I miss my girlies...the ones I left behind when I moved from the big city to the small, beachy town. Not just them, mostly the chit chats we  had about...what about actually? What do girls talk when they are getting wild? The big screen, who's on it and who's out for good! I still keep myself informed because I have no clue when one of my chicks would decide to visit...and I don't want to look dumb! So, after I've been internalising a very complicated situation in my head, I agreed that the last thing I wanted was Monique to say I was dumb! I don't like watching TV, but I have to! Therefore I installed, not one, but two teles, each connected to its own digital provider. I run Sky  and Freeview in the same time because I have to be informed! Mostly gossips....and reality shows! And to be above my girlie babes, I decided to start living the life the starlets do. The only difference is that they, the nobodies who play the role of somebodies, are getting paid big bucks for being nothing else than themselves. I can do that! Being me is a full time job anyway! So let me, the blondie, be the one who brings some huge shows to New Zealand!

So, yesterday morning I kind of wanted to be the undercovered boss. How nice "Undercover Boss New Zealand", proudly brought by me, the boss with no employees, sounds! So I left behind my pink outfits and stepped into my studio...where I had a deep convo, from boss to employee, with myself, of course. I got to the point where I had to congratulate myself for some decisions and penalise me for others. But them I realised that there was the moment to write some cheques and give away a holiday or a new car or something...to myself again, in the absence of any employees. I had a look to my boring bank account and....  I changed back to my pink and short outfits!

So, next step, "The Voice" New Zealand. I could sing, no doubt...but I need my drum kit...for a little bit of rhythm...or to cover my voice! And my drums have a spring missing, so I have to keep the silence for the next few days, just until my spring arrives via the Courier Post. Now, we all know how well this service works. Therefore, if I am lucky and I get the missing piece (which I doubt), I may have the pleasure to delight my neighbours. At this stage, The Voice NZ is still on cards. I just have to ask the neighbours before if they agree to be my judges. 

The Bachelorette New Zealand was my next thought, but I had to bring a twist that would make the show more attractive. Firstly I needed something more exciting than roses, something like.... dumbbells. What's wrong with that? I am a Personal Trainer and dumbbells are my best friends! My question to the possible bachelors would then be "So and so, would you accept this dumbbell? Very original by the way, but there was one small problem! I don't want a bachelor!

X Factor New Zealand would be the best for me! If I don't have the factor, I don't know who would! I could show the country pretty much everything. I could even compete with my puppy Hendrix, the only dog in the world that does nothing is told to! We could mess something out together. Comparing to him, Marley is a very well behaved quadruped! I also have other talents to show off. Like the slowest car tyre changer in the whole world. No, this won't do it, so back to Hendrix again. He can prove how many shoes he can destroy in a minute. You know which minute. The one when you just turn away to hang the washing out. Turn back to him....all the shoes pieces! If this is not a winner, then no other act is!

I could also bring Jersey Shore or Geordie Shore to New Zealand! Our original title would be Bro Shore NZ. Bear with me for a sec! I could play a main act in the show, yes I could! I could swear, just wend me across the script a little bit. To be perfectly honest, I still have problems with swearing, but I am a fast learner! But no, on a second thought. I have no intention of showing my bits off live! 

What about "Keeping up with the Abrahams"...New Zealand, of course? Sounds brilliant, isn't it? I just have to round my buddy a little bit and I will be good to go. I could do the duck lips pose, I could talk nonsense, I could even make a tragedy out of nothing and tell the whole world about it. The only problem is...the buddy. But working on it, no doubt!

I have so many ideas about "fabulous" reality shows that New Zealand would benefit of...or not! The whole day yesterday I tried to figure out which one to start with. I tried harder today. Still no decision, so I decided to join a Garden Club in the meantime. At least I'd learn something that I could really use in the future. More than I could learn if I join a Tupperware party, because I already know how to put a lid on a plastic box! But, to be honest, I haven't told the other members about my intention of ravishing the producers with my tele talents. Not because I was shy...just because I didn't want to be kicked out before accepting me as a member! :)

Monday, 7 July 2014

Treats for the love of my life


I believe in miracles and in all sorts of spooky things others wouldn't bother  even considering. I believe that people have the power to change and the world could become a better place, which through my blondness eyes looks like Alice's wonderland. No, I'm not an incurable naive. I know by now that Easter bunny is a fake while unicorns are real...or the other way around? Anyway, the fact is that I still believe in miracles....and Hendrix is one of them. And just to prove that I am right, I decided to take him to training school. Not quite...just to doggy obedience course. But, once in my life, I wanted to make it right, so I even paid for a One-on-One session before the course starts. Here is the story.

As naughty as Hendrix is, I dearly love him. Some of my neighbours not so much though. The animal officer from the local Council turning up to my door proves that. My neighbours may be stubborn, but wait to see me. I am Miss Stubbornness herself. I could win the Nobel Prize for stubbornness if somebody would invent it! I may lost some battles here and there, but I always won the deciding war. Hendrix is the love of my life, a huge 15 months old Labrador- Ridgeback cross, black from head to toes, naughty and demanding.  And a little bit special. Just like me! With this thought in my mind I drove Hendrix to his private lesson with a real dog whisperer. Not because I thought she, the trainer, can do miracles in 60 minutes (I tried for 15 months and nothing happened!) or because I had too much money floating around. Just because the obedience course starts next week and I don't want Hendrix to be "Student of the day" on his first day at doggy school. Plus I hate people rolling their eyes when he does only what he wants. 

The lady was very friendly. And patient! She had bags of treats for Hendrix that proves that she read carefully the email I sent her about the Prince of Darkness and his very special behaviour. She certainly did that because she even brought some extra leashes.... in case Hendrix decided to take off. Which he didn't by the day because he loves his food and treats are his favourites. They work like this: Hendrix does what he wants and I reward him for...what for by the way? But the lady knew her job very well and, as I've said, she was patient...extremely patient. While she taught my puppy stuff that he knows anyway but he doesn't want to do, the whisperer's two gorgeous Border Collies sat nicely in her car...with all the doors opened. No running away, which made me jealous. Even Hendrix noticed their good behaviour and, just to prove it, he threw a tantrum...Hendrix style, with yelling and barking and rolling on the grass while pulling my shoulder out of the socket. Thank God, my dear baby got bored fast and, when he noticed that the treats stopped coming, had to give up. I told you that my baby Hendrix loves his food!

By the end of the session, Hendrix learnt a lot. He now knows that he can get lots and lots of treats, not for good behaviour,...just because he is mine! I am relieved and ready to start the 8 week obedience course. No fears anymore.  Hendrix will not be the worse dog enrolled in a good behaviour course. I will make sure of that. I have books and a special folder from my dog whisperer, a very fancy leash and....treats! Heaps of them! Plus there are 6 more days left until the course starts, so I can practice. No, not the training! Just how fast I would be able to deliver treats. As faster as better I guess, because, with his mouth full, my naughty puppy cannot make those funny sounds he usually does ... more like ultrasounds really! 

On a brighter note, the lady is the best dog trainer I have ever met. And I've seen a few! She is my hope in a miracle. Hendrix the miracle! And if I have no clue how much Hendrix will enjoy the course, I know for sure what I am going to wear during the sessions. That baggy jacket with enormous pockets! You don't imagine how many treats I can hide in them! :)

Click here to email Brigitte

Saturday, 28 June 2014

Who are the real sexy ones?

Courage is a word very used these days. All the famous people have the courage to do something...at least this is what media likes us to believe, while average people's only courage is to live. Politicians have the courage to tell us things understood only by them, starlets to unveil their average boring life in all sorts of reality shows, runaway models to starve themselves to death, some athletes to embrace cheating ways of winning by swallowing so called "supplements", others to push, pull or even bite their opponents in the same desire of getting a larger slice of fame. So lately I started wondering what is courage and who are  the real courageous peeps. It wasn't hard to find the answer by the way. I have to admit that for a few weeks I got  things all arsy-versy. But then a few days ago, suddenly I realised what courage means. 

Firstly, I remembered how dad used to tell me to always be courageous. What he meant, I guess, was to never be afraid of who or what I am. In other words to conquer the world...my way. And that made me remember Conchita Wurst, or Tom Neuwirth if you would like. Now, in my humble opinion Tom is courageous and Conchita is extremly beautiful... and, let's admit it...even sexy....in her way. Without being part of any minority, I got to the conclusion that sex appeal  is related somehow to courage. Courageous, confident people who are not afraid of being themselves are sexy. That confirms me at least why I am not attracted to any "glory of the day" somebody. Their so called beautiful image is mostly created by their agents, PRs and media of course. 

If courage would be based only on self confidence, everybody would want and get it. But it should be more than that, so I remembered....Conchita again. I am sure that my dad would have liked her and have had the answer in a sec, even if he never saw her, but unfortunately my dad is long time gone. However, my blonde brain needed more than a sec to reveal the truth....my kind of it. Courageous people are tolerant because one needs lots and lots of courage to chose to be tolerant nowadays. But some people do it and they are the absolute winners. A whole list of amazing beings, starting with Gandhi, can prove it. I am far of being like them and I still have lots of tolerance lessons to learn. However, I remember the day I left the country I was raised in for a different future in a land I knew nothing about. A buddy of my friend told me just a second before the take off that I was very courageous to leave behind what I was comfortable with for who knows what I was going to find ahead. That made me melancholic back then. Now, I realise that I wasn't the courageous one. My friend's buddy was. He had the courage to never change. He also had the courage to stay intolerant his whole life...but this is another story that I may share another time. 

Anyway, there may be many things that distinguish a courageous person from a coward one. For me though tolerance and confidence are more than enough. That doesn't mean that I got them both. Work in progress. I however got to the realisation that the only beautiful people I ever met are the ones who know who they are, are comfortable with themselves, admit differences and don't judge them. I hope I will get to that point myself...someday! And that day I will be smoking hot like a pistol! Good on you, Conchita for staying true to yourself! 

Click her to email Brigitte

Tuesday, 24 June 2014

I have over 100kg of gold!

I am sure I'm not the only one who wondered about the meaning and purpose of our lives. Where did we come from and mostly where are we hitting to? Some may think they found the answer. Maybe they did. It may be something related to achieving as much as possible, storing pieces of papers called money in deposits that, let's be honest, make the banks even richer than them. Or perhaps getting the fame and success they believe they deserve. Or, why not, having the fun of their lives...this life. Others, more spiritual, may relate their destinies to oneness, goodness...or other esses. They may be right too. Maybe, just maybe, serving the right divinity (which is quite hard to decide on) would bring them to accomplishing their destinies....or free will.  Very controversial, by the way.  I am too small in regards to the whole Universe to have the right answer. At least not one that would suit everybody. I am too insignificant to work it all out. But, once in this life, I am decided to let my guard down and be who I am, which may be far from the blondie you know. 

My whole life I tried to find answers to every existential question. I've been through philosophy and adored the way thinkers think. The real ones at least. Like Aristotle who believed that happiness is the only purpose of life...belief shared by Dalai Lama by the way. Schopenhauer thought suffering is the goal; for Freud that sex was the answer, Heidegger debated that true time is four dimensional and destiny may be clearly seeing the dimension we cannot as average human beings; Kant decided that everything is fate.  As a stubborn creature, I experimented all their theories. I've been through religion and I am sure I wasn't the only one. Spirituality appealed to me as it did to many others. I believed in the unbelievable and still do somehow. I was rich, successful and proud. I needed no  peeps and I was more than enough for myself. Was I happier than when I was poor, average, humble and hungry for somebody's, I mean anybody's, smile? Being wiser now than yesterday, I have admit that none of these are part of my destiny. I had different priorities for different stages in my life. Some people focus on complaining. Like my neighbour who still believes that he can change Hendrix from a devil to a saint...with the help of the animal officer. No way! Or that lady who said some things over 40 years ago believing that she can rule my life. No again! I decided on my destiny long time ago and living someone else's life wasn't part of it! People prioritise according to their moods, desires, dreams, age, relationships. Actually we may think that some things are more important than others according to our own personality. No zodiac involved though! 

 However, the answer to what is my purpose in life was always in me. Sophocles was right when he said "Look and you will find it - what is unsought will go undetectedI"  For me, happiness is what I leave behind....and that is my purpose in life. A life of purpose. If there is only one life as per some believers or a succession of livings as per others, doesn't matter. I kind of accomplished what I was meant to. I passed the best of me to my two children. They are the adults I wouldn't been able to be. Two open books who can make a difference to this world. Work in progress, still writing their purpose in life based on the hypothesis passed from me to them. I measure their weight in gold and I have over 100kg of gold in my virtual bank...the only one that matters. 

Click here to email Brigitte

Friday, 13 June 2014

The only thing we couldn't live without


All sorts of existential questions went through my mind lately. Perhaps I am getting wiser, deeper and sharper with age. No, I'm not on wacky-backy. I'm just more aware and concerned about what's important. Have you ever thought for instance what is the only thing you couldn't live without? I did and, after a long research, I had the answer. Let me just tell you how I got to it. 

A month ago I moved to this nice, little town on the beach. Beautiful scenery, great people, really laid back lifestyle. The house I got here is a  mansion comparing to what I had before, so I was thrilled to put my fingerprint on each corner....and there are so many! New life, new beginnings.... But, as even Neil Young said, nothing is perfect. There is always something to disturb an ecstatic existence. In my case, the storm. One that I haven't seen before! Its sound and intensity gave me goosebumps. But, as a brave girlie, I came to the other end, and in the morning everything seemed just fine....except the power. Actually its absence. Guys, with no power, I had to say goodbye to phone chats, internet messenger, Candy Crush (saga, farm...and whatever the nerds have invented to keep us, blondies, occupied and entertained!), Facebook, Twitter and all sorts I thought I couldn't live without. But that's not all. No cooked breakie, no Nespressos (not even with George Clooney in the building!), no cuppas of tea....actually absolutely nothing that I was used to before the storm. With no power, the cut may be very deep. I mean very, very....Up to the bone! How many hours do you think the hot water in the boiler can last? Have a guess. Maybe one hour if you're lucky, so a few minutes showers would have to do it. I could live with Speedy Gonzales showers, but not without my hair straightener. Nor Internet! 

A few minutes without power, I realised that I had no contact with the world outside my neighbourhood. I knew that the storm hit the whole country so my first thought was what if everything perished...except my home. No TV to find out, no social networks working, no phone or mobile phone. Sinister, to be perfectly honest! I thought of things that could raise my mood, but not even a pink nail polish was able to do it. But I wasn't the only one grumpy. My dogs were too. They couldn't understand what on earth happened to their breakfast. Instead of the nice cooked brekkie they usually had, they got a boring bowl of dog biscuits. The two older ones, wiser and more accommodating, got it somehow. Hendrix, my huge 15 months old puppy didn't. So he threw a tantrum as he usually does! 

Anyway, sometimes in the afternoon the house got power. Finally. So I decided to enjoy everything the 21st Century allowed me to have. I plugged and started every gadget I ever purchased. The washing machine, dryer, oven, food processor, all started doing what they do best: serve me! I cruised the internet, hungry of finding out what's new in the world...while watching the latest goss on the tele. I messaged everybody and emailed them too while Vibering and Voxing them as well...as a statement! I've added to my portfolio a few more Candy Crush points, Instagramed and Pinterested, watched the latest You Tube videos,  hoped on Songify only to see if there was something new there. Done them all! 

Later in the night, after hours of analysing and reanalysing things, I had the answer to my question. So what is the only thing we cannot live without? What makes us happy? No, it's not the coverage of those two idiots having a mega stupid wedding. Nor the "I" gadgets that allow us everything really. Facebook helped me with the answer. You know what I am talking about. A selfie, guys. Everybody takes selfies. Happy mood? Big smile selfie straight on Facebook and Twitter. Sad mood? Teary eyes selfie on the same networks. Want a hot date? Duck lips selfie. Have a new lippy? Selfie. Overseas trip? Selfie with the Eiffel Tower in the background. Started dating your ex's best friend? Selfie with him hugging you in the hope of your ex or one of his friends seeing the photo. And they will cos we all like selfies. Don't be embarrassed to admit it. You're not the only one hooked on selfies. Even Ellen had one with the whole crew, one that landed straight on Twitter. Then many of so called stars have them even if they say that paparazzi took the photos. What paparazzi? Who cares about socialites, even if they are sisters with big asses. Anyway, let's admit it. Selfies are the trend! So let's take as many as possible and throw them all on each social network possible. Don't be shy! Keep the good habit alive! Take selfies after selfies. No need for diaries or timelines. Selfies are more than enough. And to prove how much I couldn't live without them, I am going to take a selfie right now. One according to my mood when I see so many selfies around: boring! :)

Click here to email Brigitte

Thursday, 29 May 2014

The blonde wicked language


I am amazed how many languages and words orbit around us. I am stunned, as I've said...but that's just right for a blondie like me. It is so cool how we are able to use tons of words to describe one only thing. Now I am not so blonde and I know what synonyms are. I even heard about antonyms because blonde doesn't mean dummy....not necessarily! The fact is that languages evolve and we, average peeps, are involved in creating new meanings and bringing new words to our daily vocabulary. Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite terror of their reality. I wish I've said that, but I didn't. Edgar Allan Poe was faster than me...but I agree. Linked to reality, words have power. Even good is better...when it's worse. Let me just justify myself. 

I had a good day today. What am I talking about? I had a day that deserves more than that....as many synonyms as possible to describe the greatness of my last 24 hours. A walk with my puppy Hendrix. He is a real celebrity this boy and he is the love of my life. So, a walk as I've said. A long one delivering flyers in the new town I've moved recently. Nice, sunny...Hendrix pulling me with all the power and strength a big puppy can. So I kind of missed some postboxes...only because my Hendrix believed that every second one was more than enough. Brilliant! But somehow we delivered my advertising stuff....and if somebody didn't get my flyers, please ask if your neighbours has them. Every second or third house on the street should! Fabulous! 

Tired...mostly me, we went to the beach....as a reward for Hendrix' cool behaviour. Great! The beach means me running like crazy to catch my puppy....who is a faster runner anyway. Super! Fast runner and a fast eater as he proved today when he found that dead, smelly half fish on the sand that made him smells like shit. Excellent! Now that I mentioned the word shit, I  admit that I forgot to take a bag with me...so I had to sort of cover my sweet puppy's excrements with some sand. Marvellous! Wait! I also had to clean my shoes full of them on the grass....somehow.Amazing! 

Once I arrived home, I went straight to my laptop. You know how much I love my machine! I opened my emails and read them carefully. This is the moment when I realised that I blondely misspelled Clare's name in my previous emails to her. Constantly!!! Magnificent! Why would she think I've done that? Now, you all know me, guys. Once again I blame my blondness and everything that brings second after second to me. It's a full time job to be blonde! Sweet as! 

Back to my emails. There was one from a company that supplies me with all sorts of packaging for my sports waxes. Three weeks ago I placed an order and emailed them my new address. However, my parcels went to my old address, 300km away. Since then, an inexperienced customer service staff emails me her daily struggle to fix the problem.....by doing nothing. Outstanding! She even asked me to contact the guys that now live in my previous home and begged them to contact the freight forward company. Which I did by the way, just because I am a groovy blondie! Problem still not sorted, but that's fine. I am just wondering if I somehow could get a job with my supplier packaging company. It would be so smashing to be paid by them for breathing only. Actually I want a full time job with them. Just imagine: me doing nothing for 8 hours. Every day! Bang-up! Maybe they can hire Hendrix as well. He can stay still if they reward him! A slap-up reward of course! 

Anyway, the day went on and on. One neat moment after another. Extraordinary day, I can assure you! Sostunning...and wonderful...and awesome...and exceptional....and prime...Please stop me, guys! Anyway, there was a shinning bit of my day. The moment when I realised that there are 94,000 peeps that constantly read my blogs. Why would you do that, guys? I am blonder than you all....or maybe just tricking you to believe that. Perhaps...but don't count on that...too much! I know that I am intelligent because I know that I now nothing. Sorry, not me...again. Socrates was way faster this time! 

Thanks USA, New Zealand, Canada, Australia, UK, Ireland, Slovenia, Romania, India, France, Germany, Italy, Denmark, Russia, Ukraine, Hungary, Thailand, South Africa, Netherlands, Brazil, Spain, Argentina. You, guys, rock!!! You are gorgeous... and ravishing...and dazzling

Click here to email Brigitte

Wednesday, 14 May 2014

The world is my oyster



The difference between goals and wishes is that goals should be measurable and realistic. Wishes? What ever crosses your mind...mostly dreams. You may or may not agree with the argument of dreams, but let me put things in the right order here. The senses we trust to distinguish reality from illusions cannot be trusted. Rene Descartes was right to say that and who am I to argue? A blondie like me dreams with eyes wide opened, always has a wish list and targets goals according to it...sort of. Let me explain how my mind goes places and thoughts jump from a wish to a goal and vice-versa.

I wish I had a small, fluffy, lazy, loving little dog. Even the queen has one! But I don't. I have 3 huge dogs instead. Nothing wrong with that. It's just the fact that no fence or gate in the world would stop at least one of them escaping. Fine again, cos this keeps me fit...and toned. You don't even imagine how many kilometres I ran after my dogs in the last few years. I could easily compete.... and win a marathon. My goal is to have the strongest, heaviest, buchiest gate to stop my dogs wondering around. Not that they would harm somebody. It's just the fact that I have moved town and I don't want to enter in the community on the wrong foot. Have I told you that the town is so small that everybody knows everybody....but nobody knows me...just yet? Anyway, with the goal set high, I approached the town's most famous gate maker. A celebrity, I was told. When the dude arrived, I agreed with the community's unanimous voice. The guy looked exactly like Billy Gibbons from ZZTop. He even called himself ZZ and changed his car plate to ZeeZee. Actually he looked so much like Billy that my brain jumped from my goal straight to another wish. I wish he was one of ZZTop's guys and start singing instead of fixing my  gate. And then back to a goal.My goal is to fix this bloody gate. My IPod can fulfil my wish. So I moved on and left the guy working hard on my gate. Which he did! Successful? Only time will tell!

But that's not all. I had a browse in the CBD. Please ignore me and read "on the only central street". As I walked, a wish jumped from my blonde brain. I wish I wore my runners. Not that I love them so much, but my shoes put my feet through enormous pain. I  kind of knew it would happen when I decided to wear them...but a girl is a girl, isn't she? No matter how big the pain is if it's for a good cause...fashion! So my next thought was a goal. To find the closest shop and buy some runners or slippers... or something that I would never wear in a right state of mind. But I ignored the rebellious thought and I kept walking...with a big smile on my face. Wait a sec. The truth is that it was nothing else than a rictus...caused by pain. But the lady from the post shop and the other one from the Council thought I have a beautiful smile. Which was a bonus! 

Anyway, guys, as I've said, I moved to a small town where Abba and Tina Turner are still en vogue. At least that's what the DJs from the local radio station believe. I moved and I am loving it. I live my dream! So I wish I was who I was. Again from wish to goal. My ultimate goal? To be who I am. That's very simple. Nothing changed. I still love pink, dress in the crazy style I created, still wear mini, believe that the world is a beautiful place to live in and that people are all just amazing creatures. I still dream to change the world and make my presence felt. And I will, I promise. My studio opens very soon and my wish and goal is to keep dancing...as I always did! And I will! 
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Sunday, 4 May 2014

Good bye


Some people live on food, water and  air; others for fun, career and what money can buy. I am free from the matrix. I love people, live for people and  breathe in people. Every memory I have is related to people I love. I couldn't live without their smiles. To be honest, I exist to make people smile. We all have destinies. I never gave my power away to the inner critic, so understood long time ago that my purpose is being there for my peeps. I also understood that there is no such a thing as constructive criticism. Therefore I lifted up people....and their smiles lifted me up too! It was, I guess, just my decision to be focused only on the positive side. 

I said so many times that I am so blonde. And I am! Also said that I suck in my personal life....but I am great in my work. I work with and for people and that makes me proud...of their achievements, hard work, friendship. Proud of everything my peeps put in our professional/ friendship relationship. I owe them my life really!

And because I value people, I am coming out clear and clean and have to say that my mission here, in the sunny Whangaparaoa, is accomplished! I've done as much as the universe allowed me to. It is that time when other people need me; others in a totally different region. Sunny too tough! A brand new studio there expects brand new people and I just hope that I would be able to do for them at least as much as I've done for you, guys! New classes, new Personal Training sessions, new ballet lessons....new people! I just hope you would remember me as the crazy, blonde dancer who made you laugh and pushed you to break limits, step beyond boundaries and live your dreams to the max. A blondie who loves pink...and her puppy Hendrix! Brigitte, your Personal Trainer logs off today... while logging in another area! Brigitte, your friend, doesn't go tough! I will always stay in contact with you, my peeps, because you touched my life....and I hope I touched yours. 

A huge thanks to my Abs class girlies and friends Jenny, Jacinda and Sharon; my Sculpt Step and Pump babes Deanna, Jasmine and Louise; all my bootcampers and then clients (now friends!); super dear to my heart Gendi and Karissa; my dear Kerry; sweetheart Tracy; awesome Stacey; beautiful Yo-arna; dearest friend Valerie; cool mates Barbara and Dion; my angels Marie and Wayne; my sweety pies Kiita, and Sammi; my amazing friend Heike; my wise Darren; beautiful souls Patty, Bevan and Hadley; great buddies Dianne, Peter and Ashley; my role models Andy and Sandy; my beautiful Liz;  my kind of chicks Margo, Trudy, Lindy, Si, Hayley, Natalee, Geraldine, Lynley, Chelsea, Anita, Raewyn, Sally and Gail; my awesome lady Audrey and her great Morell; my lovely Susan and Bron;  the chicks who always made me laugh Sarah, Alison and Meryl; my dearest Jill and Kate; my almost counsellors Helen and Bernard;  my amazing Cathy, Sue and Nik. There are hundreds more and if you don't see your names here it doesn't mean I forgot you. I will always keep you in my heart! Love to my girlies Debbie, Carmena, Rachel and Nane! Thinking of you my yoga for preggies Abby, Emma, Theresa and so many more! All  my love to my ballet girlies Sammi (I love you for ever!!!!), Bella and Niki. Go for your dreams, girlies! Sending love to all my sports massage and strapping peeps, great guys, great athletes Bob, Ross, Bill, Ann, John, Bruce, Jayden, Alex and Jason. I am so proud I met you all! 

Yours in fitness, :)
Brigitte

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Thursday, 6 March 2014

So you want to make a credit card payment...

My father never said I was blonde. He always said I was...special.. which is far from average. Nothing worse than mediocrity. Actually there is. Stupidity beats mediocrity. By far! Now let's just think together. Would you ever want to be average, insignificant and without any perspective? Neither did I and my father knew that! No worries here. I would never become part of a pack. My blondness wouldn't let me by the way! My father was a smarty and he knew that girlies like me, living in their own world, are able to invent all sorts of things that may look odd for some. But nothing like answering machines. Let me just justify myself.

Today was a long day. Not longer than others cos we all know that, even if the Babylonians divided the time from sunrise to sunset into 12 hours, the Egyptians were the ones who made things clearer: a day has only 24 hours. Not less, not more! So, I had a difficult day today just because I had to make some phone calls. The important ones...you know...end of the year, bills, all sort of funny and exciting things we all love to bits. What I realised after calling all these important people is that they may be even more important than I thought. Yes, because none of them take calls anymore. 21 century, you may argue. That's true, nowadays answering machines replaced the human touch. Let me just tell you how those answering machines work. 

Let's pretend you have an emergency with your internet, so you have to call your net provider. On top of that you want to find out when a parcel sent ages ago would finally arrive. Also, why on earth you have to pay for a bill that doesn't belong to you. Be prepared for long calls. If you are something like me, you would notice the odds in the odds. Like that all these companies you try to reach have approached the same software designer to create their computer generated systems. "Welcome to the..." is the greeting message which is fine cos we all like to be wanted. Then "select one of the following 5 options". Fine again. Then, always for option number 5.... "press 9", which sounds quite confusing for...a blonde. But let's go further. "Tell me in a few words what are you calling about". This is the part when you can have fun. I had lots... If you like games, this is the moment when you can play with words. Serious people would just record something like "fault" or "account" or whatever their problem is. Fun girls like me would go crazy...like"the grass is green" or "I'm bored" or "I want a day off" or would even release a nice and dirty swearing, which would stay just between you and the answering machine. But no matter if you are a traditionalist or a kind of crazy girl like me, the system would beat you...because the next option after you just spit the swearing out is ...."so, you want to make a credit card payment. Let me just put you through our payment system". I told you the machine knows better. Let's pretend you are calling because you have a fault on the line. This is your problem. The company's worry is...your money! 

Let's also assume that you had enough of chatting with a machine. Don't, because you would be transferred to a call centre on the other side of the planet. First of all, you may understand less than you did when you followed the computer generated system's options. Then they wouldn't understand you either because they have no clue of what happens in your country. Then if the whole conversation with the company's robot takes 10 minutes (believe me when I'm saying that my stopwatch counted that!), making your problem comprehended by the call centre staff would steal you a precious hour.  I kind of went that way too, so no need for you to try it. 

So, I had a day talking to robots and I am almost happy at the end of it. I can now say that I waisted 3 hours on 5 phone convos with an artificial intelligence, but I accomplished my mission. So, happy about the outcome, not so thrilled about the time spent on choosing options that all took me to opening my wallet. But definitely more satisfied than that Facebook personal message I got earlier in the morning from a guy based in Florida. Not that Florida wouldn't make me happy! He said that I am "more beautiful than the sun and the moon and such beauty can never be walked away by a man who believes in nature and in our further relationship". Now, I am not sure what relationship he refers to, but I know for sure that I prefer talking to any answering machine than to a stranger...stalker! I kind of believe that guys like you, Florida dude,  invented the computer generated systems with their 5 option choices! :)

Tuesday, 25 February 2014

I am my brand

I am more credible than the Pope himself...and that's big! Otherwise how on earth I would have convinced you to read and follow my blogs?  Trustworthy and cogent are my names. It's not the fact that I am more solid than others. I know that. Maybe just the fact that you wouldn't expect a blonde to be conclusive and coherent. You may know better why you keep coming back anytime I post a new blonde thought. 92,000 readers, this is how many you are...and keeping you entertained is a big responsibility, isn't it? But again, this comes so natural to me because, as I've said, I am authentic....just a real blonde, not easily swayed by the outside world. Therefore, I sometimes feel entitle to say that I branded the blondes. That's right. Blonde is my brand. Let me just validate this.

Just a few days back, one of my girlies asked my help. I would do whatever when it's about one of my chicks. I would even help if I'm not asked to. My girlie needed a cheep flight to the UK, one that would give her the chance to fly with the best of the best, stop in some amazing cities, get faster to her final destination while pay just a little bit more than nothing. Getting quotes is my forte, especially because I know almost everybody. So, I started phoning and googleing the net. I decided to use one of my connection, a lady who worked for years in the travel industry, knows everything about flights and can turn impossible into likely possible. Have I told you that the main reason I used her is that she is not blonde? 

Anyway, my lady found the best flights while still on the phone with me. The only problem was that I knew that my girlie friend needed to get to Brighton and the final stop the travel exceptional had found was London. So I asked her to look for something that lands in Brighton. The flight centre lady tried to convince me that there wasn't anything that goes there, but I knew better. So...I convinced her the opposite....and she believed me. She even asked her supervisor; then got on another line with some other smarties in the city. Nobody ever heard about a flight Aukland- Brighton. After a half an hour, we both seemed tired, so my travel lady promised to keep searching. I got a few emails back from her that proved me that she is still on the job. It was an hour later when I was told by a real Brit that Brighton doesn't have an airport. Never had one by the way! I am not sure whether the same guy informed the travel lady, but what I know is that she emailed me a booking to London. Full stop. 

Then I started analysing the whole experience. How good should I be if I can convince even a very skilled flight centre staff, one who made thousands of bookings around the world, that Brighton has an airport...when it doesn't? Exceptionally good, I would say. It's not that my lady wasn't the best in what she did for so many years, no! It's just the fact that I am more convincing than the emperor of Japan. When I say something, no matter how blonde that sounds, people believe it! Why would that be? Simple. I invented the blonde brand. Yes, I am a brand! I worked very hard to create it and built it up to my standards. Blonde standards by the way! 

Sometimes, I think that even you, guys, believe me. And if not...just please take me as I am. And what I am is a brand, one created by me and developed in many years of hard work. Therefore I have often thoughts of changing my name in one that may be more appealing to my brand. Something like Brigitte Dotorgdotnz....or maybe Dotnetdotnz. How cool that would sound? 

A huge thanks to my 92,000 readers. It's an honour entertaining you! That's what my brand does best. It does it for living by the way. New Zealand, USA, Ireland, Germany Romania, Canada, Australia, Hungary, Hong Kong, China India, Slovenia, Russia, Brazil, Argentina, France, Italy, Denmark, Sweden, Holland, Bulgaria, Fiji, Japan, Indonesia, Finland, Ukraine, I salute you. A huge sorry to my UK readers. I honestly didn't know that Brighton doesn't have an :)

Thursday, 13 February 2014

Portret of a self employed guy

There is nothing more amazing than a day off. And when I mean off...I really mean it. A day when the only sound you may hear is the one of your own voice. Or maybe the music you like, the goss girlie movies only you can appreciate. Now, nothing to be desperate about  if you don't have the privilege of 24 hours for yourself. An afternoon alone if fine as well. This is what I had today: a working class girlie in the morning, a nothing to do time after lunch.


 So what does a blondie do when she is left on her own? So simple. Firstly, she calls all her chicks and gets informed. Scientia potentia est. You know what I mean. Knowledge is power or, in my own language, keep in touch with all the goss if you want to be part of your girlie crew. Otherwise, your garls will declare you old fashioned and you will become part of their past and this is something I cannot live with. So I rang all my chicks, one after another, and I realised how much I missed in the last few weeks. First of all, Mandy almost  left her husband. Wait a sec. Mandy is not one of my girlies and she cannot dream to become one. So she was about to leave the bastard because he worked a lot. Much too much, said the blondie on the phone. So he worked a lot and Mandy was bored of partying on her own. I understand that. I really do. Mandy is not blonde. A blonde would never get enough of her own company. But to keep her on his side, the man sent Mandy to a nice holiday in Hawai. 

Then Amelia, again no chance of becoming part of the crew, got a new job. She now works one full day a week. Finally!  So 8 hours a week...just for fun and for some extra pocket cash...coins by the way comparing to what her man lends her every week. Cos the girl has to buy something nice to make her life more interesting, doesn't she?  Have I forget to tell you that she now works for her guy as a PA? Now I expect you to tell me what sort of assistant sweats a day a week for her boss and what happens if she, the extraordinary, calls in sick...her own man? You know.... period trouble that her dude would know about anyway..... 

Then Wendy went through hell and back after her botox. Apparently she almost got depressed because she didn't look 20 years younger as she expected. I don't know Wendy, I heard about her today for the first time, but I sympathise with her. My girlie on the phone, however, said that Wendy would need another at least 2 years of treatments to create the illusion of a teenager...which she is not anymore by the way. But she can hope, nobody died of dreaming...just yet.  Again I forgot to tell you the important stuff that is that her lovely man is decided to pay as much as it takes to make her lady happy...and younger if this is what she wants. 

I listened to all my girlies and their goss' today and, as much as I wished, I couldn't understand where and most important how the ladies they talked about found those generous halves. Who are these men by the way and how on earth they understand better women than we women do? I was embarrassed to call back my blondes and enquire about that, so I made my own opinion. I realised a way back that the truth is what one wants to believe in. At least this is my truth! So i started analysing and I even wrote down some of my results. Now this is not the naked truth. I don't write things anymore...nobody does that. I type on my little girlie IPad. But back on the subject, all these men work hard and have no time for anything else. Then they all have their own businesses where their companions would be able to waste an hour or two...working or kind of doing that...or doing something else. Then they are not selfish at all. They want their ladies' sublime happiness because they don't like cheap take-a-ways...cos there is no chance of getting a nice cooked dinner. Remember that these ladies are too busy improving their own appearance and no time for housework. But most important, the guys I was mentioning are generous enough to spend as much as is needed on theirs ladies. I thought that I had the answer. If a man is self employed, selfless and generous, we, girlies, would live the life of goddesses. So which of those guys who send me personal messages on Facebook meet these standards? The guy who calls me "sweet angel" or the one who said he almost had a heart attack when he seen my photo? Actually he said that his heart stopped for a second and I am so grateful to his guardian angel who was around to resuscitate him. Or maybe the guy who emailed that he wants to know me better before marriage. Maybe he talks about his wedding with someone else which would sound like an adultery...I don't know. I am blonde, too blonde perhaps, but I understand that none of these Facebook fans would be like Mandy's man...or Amelia's one...or Wendy's one.

 I was still  searching for answers, when my beloved IPhone rang. One of my girlie friends I was just talking to a few hours back. The one who told me about Mandy. She forgot to tell me that her man is so generous because he has an affair everybody knows about and doesn't want his woman to find out...so he is generous and understanding and goes the extra mile to make Mandy happy. Now if everybody knows, maybe Mandy does as well, but she wouldn't compromise her princess lifestyle for a small detail. Then the chick who told me about Amelia rang. Apparently, her man has a few flings here and there Amelia should never find out about. So he is generous too! I called my friend who told me Wendy's story. I couldn't stop myself! And yes, Wendy's partner steps outside the boundaries...quite often. 

Therefore, if you are a nice girlie in search for a man who can give you and only you the world, think twice. You may have a first doubt if he works a lot. Second one if he is self employed. If he employs you for a little bit of work just enough to keep your social life running, you have a problem. Now prepare for a battle if he is generous. So what's left then, you may ask? A nice guy, my girlies! That's what you need, one that makes you happy without emptying his bank account just for your outlook. An honest, awesome guy! Otherwise you may live in Mandy's shoes...or Amelia's.... or Wendy's. Wait. I forgot to tell you that the awesome guy you dream about should be....self employed... generous and.... altruistic! Otherwise why on heck would you waste so much energy in searching for him? If I done the same? No, I didn't. Because I didn't search. Heaven searched for me! :)

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Monday, 10 February 2014

Sex, drugs and rock'n'roll

I was part of a nation that believed in aliens;  more like in the fact that one day slash someday the Americans are going to land and save us all. I don't remember very well who or what was our biggest enemy nor what the expected saviours had to save us from, but I still recall that everybody believed in something else than in themselves. I am no different and please don't roll your eyes. You are like me. Would it not be nice to blame someone else for our tragedies and wait for them to sort out our lives? Would that mean that we lack confidence, self confidence, overconfidence or presumptuousness? Or maybe being arrogant enough and not standing up when life gets hard while wait...and wait...and wait for somebody to get involved? It is too complicated for me whatever it is. Who holds the truth by the way? It definitely should be the guys who put together the news on every media channel. They kind of know everything; otherwise why would they be so opinionated? If you'd listen to them, you would believe that sex, drugs and rock'n'roll are still the answers to everything bad that happens in the world. Hello! Flower power age way gone!

Anyway, like a modern girl I pretend to be, I read some goss and watch others. They are all the same; the only thing that changes is the names of the people who make the headlines. A famous somebody overdosed and somebody else holds the blame; a distinguished character with athletic figure was caught drunk (not his fault, no, how could it be?); a prominent person said by mistake a word that cannot be pronounced publicly; a celebrity's ex released a sex tape and it is the guy's fault not the starlet's one. Of course. It's like somebody forced her  to get pleasured.  On top of that...global warming. What's new, guys? Let me tell you something that may sound new to some. It is always our fault and it also is our choice how we live our lives. It's just the fact that we, average, ordinary and insignificant people, don't make the news...thank God! However, not only well known characters got drunk last weekend or one before. I am sure that many others did and if your names were not mentioned it is because you are not acclaimed enough for the local, national or international news. Which is amazing by the way. Not just famous people say naughty words. Just wait until you lose your IPhone and then you would hear yourself speaking in languages....very colourful ones! I'd do the same as innocent as I may look! We all have our weaknesses even if we keep them hidden. It's not everything about sex, drugs and rock'n'roll (long live rock by the way!). 

We live our lives in a continuous desire of hiding who we are. We want to be liked, loved, appreciated and respected and we are afraid of showing the real us. Therefore we learnt to believe that we are never responsible for anything around us. But we are. Who cares if somebody had an extra glass if that person saves others from starvation and makes a difference to this world? There are so many problems we can be involved in and sort; there are so many people who need us. Once we would stand up to be counted, nobody would ever care about our weak sides. Mine? I am a bad driver with a bad car! And by the way, I would be so happy if this would be my only problem, but on top of that I am too stubborn with absolutely no self esteem. I feel better now that I said it....but I am who I am and, as weak or bad as I am , I care about others and I strongly believe that I am here to help others. What about you guys? :)

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