My ADD babe!

My father used to say that the way you finish a year is exactly how you start a new one. He was always right so I wouldn't doubt him at all. Because every word he said meant the world to me, I decided today to sort out all my unresolved stuff...just because I don't want to carry unsorted things to the new year. So let's just see...what are my unclear thingies? There is only one actually...the one everybody knows about: Hendrix, my wild puppy. Let's just be clear here. His name says it all. He has Jimi's personality, he is wild and curious. Just a different specimen...a very special one! At least to me! Back on the subject. I decided to try today, the last day of this very amazing year, to work on his personality. Now, you all know that when he wants something...he gets it. Wait. He's got that from me. The difference is that I don't bark and throw tantrums and I am not trying to be the centre of the universe only to make myself observed from the moon. Hendrix does. 

So, I made a vet appointment for my dear puppy and I arrived there nice and early. At the beginning of his existence, Hendrix went through a major surgery and only God knows how he came out to the other end...fresh and alive. So everybody knows him. My vet believes that Hendrix is a miracle and a proof that he, the vet, is the best of the best. Because he escaped from the dark side, Hendrix is allowed everything and the nurse, the receptionist and the vet himself are happy to see him. I am sure that they would throw a red carpet if Hendrix would ask for one. Today for example he emptied the bowl full of treats...the one that would last for at least  a month even if every dog that enters the clinic would get indulged. Then he ran to every corner. Like crazy! Then he opened the surgery door, where an other vet performed a major surgery on an old dog. Now, my boy is curious, I already said that. And the surgeon was so happy to see Hendrix by the way....

After he got the vaccine for something and another two for something else, and definitely a few big bucks later, I opened up and told the vet that I want him to check on Hendrix' behaviour. There may be something wrong. No wrong as bad...no way...just something crazy weird. Just saying....The vet smiled. Hendrix is a great puppy, who by the way just celebrated his first birthday. He is beautiful, very smart and well behaved...just a little bit too curious, which is fine as per my vet. It may be fine for him because he doesn't live 24/7 with Hendrix under the same roof. I know better. I witnessed him doing the craziest things ever, chewing walls.... and decks.... and cables.... and metal things. I've seen them all! So, yes, the vet agreed to do a total check up on my black Labrador Ridgeback cross. And as he's done that, his face colour changed. Actually he got to the stage where there was no colour left and I was thinking to myself that very soon I would be able to prove my first aid skills. The result was unexpected. Was it really? Hendrix suffers of ADD. You see, vet? I had my suspicion! No medication though available, my vet said,... other than a stuff that has to be sprayed a few centimetres around Hendrix. Then keep him still for 10 minutes. Are you kidding me? Hendrix staying put for more than a second? That's the century's biggest joke! 

Guys, let's make this clear. I need something to calm this little beast down without transforming him in a legume. With this thought in my mind, I stepped into another vet clinic. I needed a second opinion and, to be honest, when it's about Hendrix, I may need a thousand opinions...and still confused. There might be a cure, the other vet said, but I just ran when I heard the word Prozac. I even covered Hendrix' ears because I didn't want him to hear that he may suffer of a kind of who knows what depression. That would give him ideas about how to benefit of his "disorder". That's when I ended up at the animal homeopath. The lady was nice, actually more than nice...until she saw my dear puppy....and realised that he is hard case. Like I didn't know that! Her hands got full in a sec with all sorts. First of all, my pup has to start on raw diet. He will even have real muesli and lots of veggies that I have to boil for hours....like I am not busy enough...with Hendrix himself. And like he knows what he eats as long as his bowl is full! And it is...otherwise I am in big trouble. Anyway, on top of the annoying diet, there are drops Hendrix would have from now on....in his water. There are  not just for Hendrix though. He shares his water bowl with another two dogs, Max and Neo. Apparently they have to be on the medication as well....to be able to understand the black devil more! 

Now, would all my struggle (and money spent) sort Hendrix' behaviour? Only God knows! But it's worth trying. And if the raw diet and miraculous Bach therapy drops won't work, there are other things I may try. Lots of them, because there is only one Hendrix! Thank God! 

Happy New Year, peeps! :)

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Santa is alive!

I love Christmas...and I still believe in Santa. Why wouldn't I? He was always very generous with me....not because I was the best girlie in the whole world. Just because Santa is good. I was brought up in a country where we were told that Santa died...in a car accident. A shallow personality cult of an incapable president dictated this desperate measure. Nobody had to ever be more important than the president himself. And apparently Santa was. So they killed him. Hello people! This should never happen again! No kid has to ever have a beautiful fantasy demolished. As a little girl, I always knew that there has to be something wrong with the story I was told about Santa. Maybe he survived the accident, maybe good doctors saved him in a marvellous emergency service, I thought. I knew he was old, but miracles can happen. Old people survive accidents. Maybe not so old as Santa, but still... I read about him in "A night before Christmas". So he was already spreading gifts in the early 1800s. I also knew that his powers started with Saint Nicholas of Myra, somewhere in Byzantin Anatolia, as early as the 4th century. So, yes, he was old, but I believed in miracles (I still do by the way!). And let's be honest. How great medicine is these days comparing to the ancient times....

Dead of alive, Father Christmas left a Chrismas tree for me...ever since I can remember. And some prezzies...as many as my foster parents were able to afford. Now, the tree was the marvel because no pine tree was available. I told you that the bad president wanted Santa dead, so if he wasn't alive, then there were no Christmas trees. The truth was that it was forbidden to have a Christmas tree! However, my parents traveled for hours (and no, we didn't have a car!), from one little village to another one, hoping that they would find a pine tree for us children. You don't know how much they had to pay for it! A fortune really! But they always returned with the most beautiful Christmas tree, the tallest in the whole world. At least this is how I remember my Christmas trees. My parents used to tell me that the Christmas trees came from Santa himself who left them in a small village...for me only....which is true by the way. Santa has done that. He is amazing. 

There were always gifts under my Christmas trees...from Santa again!  Sometimes an orange, other times a chocolate bar. Times were rough in a poor country...with a bad, bad president! But no matter how hard it may have been for my parents, Santa always left me a gift. Not dolls, no...I had none by the way! Not even toys. Those were for Western kids...and I wasn't one of them. But I was a kid like every kid in the world and I got spoiled by Santa...as much as my parents were able to afford!

Every Christmas, my parents sang carols....for Santa...and me. Singing carols was forbidden too...by the bad president. But my parents knew better. They celebrated Christmas...for me! And I wasn't even an exemplary kid. Just an ordinary girlie, sometimes good, other times not too much! 

For me, Santa came back to life even stronger when I moved to my new country. How can I not believe in his powers when he came back from his grave? Like Jesus perhaps. However, I  don't worship Father Christmas...I just believe in his return every year...and I keep my hopes up. My parents taught me that! But I still remember that I was told that Santa died in a car accident and that Christmas trees haven't been allowed...by a bad president. Nor gifts...or Christmas carols. Not even Christmas itself. I also remember that my parents knew that Santa is alive and made every effort possible to keep his spirit going. Therefore, I would never understand why in Western countries, where Santa didn't die in any accident, kids are told that Santa is only a myth. Because he is not! He is for real and this is how it will always be. Let your kids be kids, no matter how old they are. Let them dream and allow them a fracture of a fantasy. Because if you do now, after years and years, they would remember about you, their parents...at Christmas...when Santa drops a gift for them. And they would miss Christmases you organised for them....and they would miss you...like I miss my parents who told me, against an antiChristmas bad president, that Santa is alive. And he will always be! Merry Christmas, guys! :)

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How I tricked the universe

This year was by far my best year. It was (sorry, still is) like candy floss and believe me when I'm saying that there is nothing better than that. I haven't been bored for a second this year because spectacular things happened. It's called life by the way and I had the privilege during the last 12 months more than ever to live every second of it like there was no other left. I blogged before about things that happen for a reason. Actually I blogged about things happening randomly without any reason. I changed my mind. Things do happen for a  sense, a logic apprehended only by a celestial omnipotency. Would this be the proof that destiny is more than a word in the dictionary? I am not sure about that (just yet!), but if it is, then I may suddenly be eligible for the Nobel Prize.  Now, let's be honest. Have you ever seen a blondie getting that prize? Neither did I! Anyway, the gods and goddesses were in a very generous mood and decided to give me, an average blondie,  if not the Nobel, at least a year of everything others would just hope to have. Now this is kind of false...or maybe just an exaggeration of a blonde mind. Let me explain. 

 2013 caught me on my wrong foot. Definitely my left one because I am right handed (and footed, I suppose). Actually this is a false statement again because I am ambidextrous. I started the year on a low, as I've said, just because shit happens. So I thought to myself (no, not what a wonderful world!) that I had only two options: to ask the mighty universe for luck or to trick the highest entity itself into noticing me...because we all know how busy the gods are helping others rather than ourselves! You know me. Demanding for things is not in my nature. At all. So, I've chosen the adventurous path of reversing my pathetic bad luck by making myself noticed by the mighty entities lingering around. Once they would see me, they would give me abundance of good things, I thought. What if I did a good deed, something big, every fortnight for the rest of 2013? And no, organising a party for a poor girlfriend who broke a nail, doesn't count. I started the next day and I ticked a good thingy every second week. It was easier than you think, guys. There is so much pain and  desperation around. There are so many tears nobody has the time to remark! I've chosen my people very carefully. Not just the ones who deserve the best got my good deed. Not at all! I got in a desperate mood last week when I realised that I had one more person to help...and apparently nobody needed my honest and unselfish act. This time I was lucky and I've done two good deeds the same day, so, after I ticked the last for 2013 in my diary, I noticed that I am in credit of one. 20 good acts from March onwards. Not too bad. Have I changed lives? I don't know about that. Again, I am too small in the huge picture of our universe.  What I know is that I gave as much as I was able to...my own time, understanding, tolerance, help, friendship, material things and even love. Again, have I changed lives? Mine, for sure!

Now that I look back...it worked! For every good deed I got something back. Sometimes a smile, other times a hug. But there were also those times when spectacular things surprised me. Huge things that count more than life itself. Like the pure and perfect love of my children...or a new friend...or a new puppy I got to adore (Hendrix, of course!)....or a moonstone I always wanted to have! :)

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Go winning!

There are two categories of people. I decided that long time ago when I opened more to things in life. There are people who can make it on their own and others who live on their shoulders. Like monkeys, by the way. Believe it or not, successful peeps learn their own lessons, overcome their own struggles, stand up straight  after every fall and need other people in their lives only to share love and happiness with them. They are more likely to be heard saying "lean on me" to the weaker ones. They are never poor because they own so many souls they carried on their shoulders for years. They don't need money to be happy. They are even happy carrying the monkeys on their shoulders, who, as Schopenhauer said, need money...lots of them to reach ridiculous goals. "Because people have no thought to deal in, they deal cards and try and win other people's money". 

How did winners get to win and losers to lose? Very simple. I said it already. Winners learn their own lessons. Actually they love learning and they don't let a year pass without a new piece of knowledge. Just because knowledge is power...and another deep circumvolution on the surface of their brain. So what did you learn this year, guys? Cos I know I did a lot. I learnt to learn again and this is biggie. To learn what? To live, of course. The deepest lesson I learn however was that the greatest gift I can give to somebody is my own time. I learnt that Christmas is not a competition of spending more and more money. It is one of spending more time with the loved ones. It's called sharing. I learnt that I have a family, distorted or not, still a very strong one. One that I am very proud about!  I also learnt that I don't need to have them all, fame and glory and success and a hallo over my head. I have what I need and this is enough to keep me happy. So what was the lesson you brought to your life during the last 12 months, guys? That lesson, no matter how small it is, made you a winner by setting you apart from the ones who lose. Because we were all created to be winners. It's just that we lost ourselves somewhere in what's called a busy life and we jumped from one extreme to the other one...  a few times. You are a winner, so go winning! Win souls, win people, love and respect their weaknesses more than their strengths. Tolerate their beliefs and learn from their rituals. Adapt to situations you never thought life would throw you in. And never forget that the monkeys you may carry on your shoulders may become winners someday...or not. It's their lesson to learn and their destiny to follow....not yours. Your path is a winner's one because you're loved, respected and even envied...by some monkeys who will never become winners! 

It's almost Christmas again. Remember that you are a winner, a very successful human being and act like one. Success has nothing to do with how many degrees you have, the size of your bank account or the number of the latest gadgets you were able to buy yourself. Not even with how impressive your house may look like. An average family spends over $1000 one Christmas presents...at least this is what the surveys show. You don't need that. You are a winner and winners give away love and spend time with people around them. Winners look up to people in need...not down to them. Winners don't lick their wounds no matter how hurt they are. They help others heal. Winners are busy people, I know, because they don't live other people's lives...they pursuit their own destiny in glory by lifting others up. They may even have to carry a monkey or two on their shoulders. Did I do that? Yes, I did and some worth it, others not so much. But I know one thing. My name is Brigitte and I am a winner! :)

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Love....just love!

I avoid using words ending in "ist". I never liked them too much. To be perfectly fair, some are fine, but I totally cut off the ones that are not. Like "misogynist" or "racist" or "anarchist" or "anaesthetist"  or even "blacklist". All remind me of a silent violence, intolerance and bad taste. Hello people! It's 21st century and nothing is written in capitals anymore. I wish people would use stubbornness to create a better world rather than destroying whatever is left of it. Many would not want to hear that... but I have to  bring up the word "love". At the end of the day it is the answer to everything. Call it interpersonal affection, altruism or just close friendship, love is still love and it has not much to do with agape or eros or narcissism. 

During the years I witnessed many relationships starting and probably more ending....and I am not talking about me here. Couples around me got together or felt apart, depending on the stage of their lives, desires or just destiny. I witnessed, as I've said, love in its purest ever form and ...indifference. I have a strong intuition. That's something I was born with. I smell love from very far away. Now, please don't take that literally. My nose is smaller than Pinoccho's , I promise. Anyway, back on the subject. Love again. I've seen couples, I trained many, I got friendly with heaps, I've been there for lots and several have been there for me. I thought I've seen it all actually. I was wrong. I met recently the most perfect couple nature or Gods have ever created. And when I say perfect, I mean just that! I don't know if they are perfect individuals though, but no doubt that as a couple they seem exceptional. This time I have really sensed and seen with my own eyes love in action. I even envied them for a second. Then I realised that love may require sacrifice, devotion, understanding, respect and so much more than that and they, the love birds, have gone through so much...together. I still envied them a little bit...especially when I realised that what I've seen between them was even deeper than the biblical Proverbs or the beginning of the soulmate theory explained by the Coran. Divine or so called creationist writings fell to explained why a couple can make it so far and definitely why they can breath pure love....but it can because, as I've said, I've seen it with my own wyes. No doubt here! 

I have no clue how can two individuals get to that sort of unity of souls...and I'm sorry. But I guess that there should be a long path couples may have to travel to together! From one dimension of a single soul to a supernatural one of a whole entity. I also suppose that the path is quite long and adventurous. I am still not sure because I never been there. Envy again? Just a little bit. Anyway, envious or not, one thing I know for sure: that I have seen love in the most amazing pure form and that made me a proud human....and hopeful too. Thank you for showing me that, Karen and Russell. This is for you, guys! :)

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Bad luck comes in fours

I don't suffer from bad luck. How could I when it is so obvious that bad luck is beyond my control? More than likely, in the prescriptive sense, luck and the opposite of it  are supernatural  phenomenons. So how on earth would I be able to control something way above the law of physics? As a human, I deeply agree with Carl Jung's way of perceiving bad luck as a descriptive coincidence, perhaps a synchronicity of daily events. As a blondie, I developed a theory about bad luck coming in fours (no, not threes; that's old fashioned already). Was it Jung smarter than me? Maybe, but the difference between us is that I can prove my theory.  

First of all not every road leads to Rome. Some may lead to Hamilton for example. No, not that fancy UK or Scotland or US ones...just the one based in New Zealand. Let me start with saying that from the place my home is to Hamilton there are around two hours drive. So bad luck number one consists in not checking the oil levels before hitting the road (Jack!). Don't look at me funny. I know nothing about cars; why would I? Actually I know that every car has a wheel and two pedals and I even heard that some cars have three pedals. It's not that I don't drive. I do, but I am as useless and my hair colour proves it. Let's just define bad luck number two: boring music on the radio stations available in the middle of nowhere and not even one good CD with me. On top of that, horrible rain all the way, which is bad luck number three. Why? Just because it always rains when I take a day off. Now, I could live with all these, but I couldn't stand having a bad make up...and that leads to bad luck number four. But wait. Before that, I should remind you to never stop in Huntly. This is common sense, everybody knows that. But I stopped and jumped straight from the car in an immensity of water. Not just that my beautiful stockings soaked, but my make up got all over the place...and let's admit it...this is a total disaster for a girlie. Not so huge as the car not willing to start anymore. Now, I'm not in the mood to go over the whole drama this created. I already made my point that bad luck comes in fours, Mr. Jung. However, I still arrived in one piece in Hamilton...eventually; even if I stopped in Huntly. 

After every storm there will be a calm because sun shines after rain, doesn't it? It's not that I reversed bad luck. It's just common sense again...and, as you know, I'm full of it! I'm already at that point in my life when I could develop another blonde theory; this time about sudden luck coming in threes after bad luck coming in fours.  I have the hypothesis, also the conclusion. All I need is to link them. By the way, you never got so far in your thoughts, Carl Jung...lucky you! 

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How to catch the perfect guy

What do men talk about when they have a men cave day? I have no idea really, but I know what chick do chat about. Men! And when I mean men, it's all about men from A to Z. I know that because that's what my girlies talk about when we have a cool, relaxing, girlie day. Like today. 

So here I was with my fav girlie in the whole wide world, Miriam, having the best day ever. You know what I mean, don't you? A little bit of shopping, a coffee here, a chat there... all sorts really, just analysing our lives, what 's good and what's bad, what's too much and what's missing. My problems? No problems, by the way, which is good. Hers? Nothing whatsoever. But we know other girlies that suffer, so why not making a whole dissection of their issues. Men, that's their main concern if you don't know it already. Actually lack of men! So where can you find a great guy when you don't have any in your life? Sport fields? Wrong! Those guys are too preoccupied with sweating and playing the ball that they wouldn't even notice your perfect eyeshadow...nor your desperation! In clubs and pubs? Wrong again! Those duds are too drunk to perform later on. At your uni maybe? Nope for the third time! You don't need a nerd, chicks! So where? On one of the dating sites? Seriously? Small chance again, because most of the chaps are in multiple relationships already. I heard stories...Where again then? 

Miriam and I scraped the subject for quite a while. Then Edison's bulb lightened up suddenly. Remember that we are both blondes, I mean super blondes, and we, blondies always have an answer for absolutely everything. How to catch a great guy?  Simple. Go to Pak'nSave. Now wait. There is a catch here. You want a sporty, relaxed guy? Pak'nSave Mangere is the answer. All the muscle definition is there, starting with a smooth quad and finishing with a strong biceps. You want a surfer? Go to Pak'nSave Silverdale around 2ish in the afternoon. The guys are there in between two waves. If you want a classy one, you would have to drive to Pak'nSave CBD...but not before 7pm.  You want a corporate one, don't you? Black tie guys finish sorting out their emails, stock taking and phone callings around 6:30ish...pm. So please chose carefully which of the locations works better for you. Once there, look around. Have you seen him? Fine. Firstly check if your makeup is perfect. Then go closer and have a look at what he has in his trolley. Remember that a guy who buys tampons is definitely in a relationship. Not so sure though about a dude who buys condoms. He may be or may want to be in a sort of connection with another girlie. So none of those are your catch. The guy you are looking for has in his trolley steak, peas, bacon, maybe beans and wine for sure. This is your prince, sweeties, so be ready to approach him. You know how to do it. Big eyes, duck lips and a little bit of surprise on your face. "Wow, you like peas too!!!! How do you cook it?", would do it. Then listen to whatever stupid recipe he gives you...and remember that peas are peas and there  are not many options other than heating it up somehow. And wait...and wait even more... until he offers to cook himself the stupid peas...for you only...tonight. You see? Easy. You can have the man of your dream in just a few moves. 

So girlies, don't wander around too much; no need to make a profile on a dating website...or to wait until your buddies hook you up on a blind date with a ridiculous guy. Just go to Pak'nSave. Remember that location is the key. Now, if you are a guy and want to meet the princess you can take home to your mama...go to Pak'nSave too. Throw some steak, wine, bacon and peas in your trolley and...wait. One of my chicks will approach you and ask how you cook the peas. She's the one because she put so much attention to detail in meeting you. Now don't ask me if I've experiment myself what I preach because....I shop at Countdown! :)

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A blonde world for New Year

I am looking forward to the New Year's...party. Every girl should have one, so, if you are a girl, you know what I mean. You know even more about it....if you're blonde! Party, yes, party in style baby! Bubbly, good food (followed by indigestion the next day!), inspiring music. But that's not all. How can I forget the outfit? Best heels, as high as possible, fluffy dress, long enough to only cover...the underwear! So I am looking forward to all the fuss, why not? I know exactly what I'd wear, I even decided over the makeup....but I don't have a New Year's resolution list and I cannot stand that. Yes, it bothers me that all my girlies know what they want to do next year. I suck at planing dreams just because dreams are to be dreamt. And let's be honest, when a dream comes true, that's not a dream anymore. But you know me already. I wouldn't want to be less than my chicks are so I need a resolution list badly...and as soon as possible. Otherwise I would look stupid. Now wait a sec: I am blonde, not stupid! 

So let's just analyse together why do I need my list....and blame it on somebody else. Like on the Babylonians. That would do! They are the ones who invented New Year's parties, they should be cursed for my list! They won't be upset though...I blame them anyway for inventing money... But New Year's resolutions was not their fault though. It's the Roman's...again. Apparently everything starts in Rome....love included! Wrong again. Everything starts with Rome. That sounds better. The Romans, proud and strong nation (so strong that they disappeared!) invented New Year's resolutions. Maybe their only resolution was to survive the Feast of Circumcision that was held the next day, on 1st of January (excuse me...Janus) of each year. 

Anyway, a list should have items....as many as better! So what do I want? Health, wealth...and a new belt for my red dress. None in my power...except the belt, which I can get myself before the New Year party starts. Now seriously what? I am thinking about something realist that I can achieve with no effort. Imagine my girlies' faces when I would tell them, early in the new year, that I have reached all my goals on my resolution list. Deal done. I have to make it simple. A better year? Nope, because 2013 is the best year of my life. Better than 2012 anyway, when I was waiting (like the rest of this planet to see if the world ends or not!). I said simple, I am sticking to that. I just want what's in my destiny to have. Love, fun, a beautiful world with beautiful people in it...or in a few words: I want my blonde world to be even blonder! That won't hurt anybody...and it is so easy to achieve.:)

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Dear Santa...

I am big on Christmas. Not big as fat. No way. I am a Personal Trainer, I wouldn't do that to myself. Just big as special. At Christmas, I want do do everything and be everything. This year though I forgot about Christmas. But not for long because the shops reminded me that I have less than a month to cover my blondness and dream about what I could be...this Christmas. So I 'd let the shops  organise their little party.  I am sure it would pay off. Me? Ahh, in such a rush to write a long, long letter to Santa. He loves me more than his own existence...or not. 

"Dear Santa

I haven't been as good as you may think I was. No, I haven't lied...I'm too blonde for that...and I still blush so I would have been discovered anyway. But I haven't been boringly good. You know me, Santa. Too fast, too precise and too analytical. I almost forgot: much too intense. I promised last year to be a better driver...and I am still useless...a real embarrassment for the driving race. I still cannot stand up for myself. I rather swallow my temper and let others win the battle. I still love pink and wear my princess headbands. My dresses are too short and I have to admit...shamelessly...that this is the way I like them. I am still not embarrassed wearing my heels. I am still not a jeans-jandals girl. I still say the naked truth and weird things that are just average and normal in my own world. And yes, Santa, I still live in my own world. You don't know how hard it was to build it and bring it to perfection. I still hide in my own world...just because I don't want to hurt people. I am still afraid of what gravity may do to my body someday. So please don't even go there! I still talk to my puppy Hendrix more than I talk to real people. I do it when nobody sees me because I don't want to seem weirder than I am. I still sing loud in the shower...only when I am home alone. 

So I haven't been as good as others. But you're not perfect either. First of all, you, Santa, are pagan...like Christmas is by the way. I know that people associate Christmas with Christianity. Wrong. Christmas was a celebration way before the first christian declared christianity a way of life. You, Santa, and I know that Romans celebrated the week between 17 and 25th December as a time of peace and lawlessness. Good time to let revenge do justice because all the Roman courts were closed. I am not saying that you, Santa, are a fraud. I am not one either. We are who we are, but I have to say the truth about Christmas. And we both know that Christmas like marriage are pagan rituals. None of them have anything to do with Christianity or any other religion. If Christmas was so obvious in ancient Rome, marriage was recorded in ancient Greek times, when a father handover his daughter for..reproduction  duties. Aren't you and I smart, Santa? But no fraud!

So I was thinking very well, dear Santa, and decided that, even if I wasn't too good (again!), I still want a prezzy. I just want a jolly good Christmas (pagan or not!). I also want to dress up as an angel (that I'm not!) and live happily in my own blonde world...as I always did. I know the rules, Santa. I made them! Wait. I also want to be able to make people around me happy. Just to bring smiles on people's faces actually. This would make my Christmas angelical. I am sure you can help me out, Santa. No shopping involved, no wrapped prezzies, no fakes...just good old me bringing my share of happiness to others. 

P.S. By the way, Santa...I still love you and promise for the million time that...I may be better next year...or not!" :)

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Reasons vs destiny

I love Heggel, always did, always will. Not him as a person; mostly his thoughts. Wouldn't have been nice to be able brainwashing him and sucking all his ideas in my brain? But no, because they may not have fitted there. Too many ideas for a blonde brain. So all I am left to do is to wish that I was so smart to come up with all those fancy thoughts. I, the blondie, believe in destiny and wonder what's ahead me. Heggel believed in reasons. For him, there were reasons that made the world progress towards destiny. Now, let's simplify it. Reasonable beats creation. Good enough for me. I wouldn't even have the right words to demolish this anyway. How does this work however in real life? Simple. Just like that.

Lately things just fallen on my laps. Like that cookbook that almost smashed my knee. Good thing however because I am a passionate cook. Not an excellent one, nor a really creative one,. Just passioned about cooking. Sometimes I'm good, other times not so much. Anyway, when it fallen, cos it did, the book opened at cauliflower soufflé. I never cooked that before, so I decided to play a little bit in the kitchen. So for more than an hour I mixed  the ingredients as per the advise of that cook guy who wrote the book. When the whole stuff (that looked weird by the way) went nicely in the oven, I started running flat like a battery. Not the Energizer one cos that lasts more than an hour. Just like the economy everyday one. But still excited to try out my new meal. Bad idea though. An hour later, the stuff with a nice French name was cooked...or not. And I tried it. Huge mistake. Uneatable really. So I thought my dogs would like it. Bad thought again. Not even them. But least they drank lots of water right after the first bite....to wash the French taste off...which it still makes me sick when I remember about it. So disaster in the kitchen. Never mind. I can go back to my usual cooking, the old fashioned roast.  

Heggel was somebody, wasn't he? So I can now prove that he got it right. I had a reason and that was to make a great meal. But, as I've said, reasons beat creation. In other words reasons make destiny happen. And they do. My destiny has nothing to do with me being a chef. Apparently. So I have to keep being a trainer. I'll just do that instead. :)

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Hello over the ocean

I got an email today from one of my readers (yes, there are a few out there!) who asked where have I disappeared. I mentioned the guy in another blog just a couple of months ago. His name is Phil and apparently he doesn't miss any of my blogs. He founds them funny, he says. Not, my intention though Phil! I'm blonde, not funny. At least not the clasic funny. I mean, not the haha funny...more like a different kind of funny. I call that living in my own world and being very comfortable there, by the way. Now back to Phil. He also wants to know if I am fine and happy. Easy answer, friend. I am happiest I have ever been before. You know what I mean...happy-happy, joy-joy! And because I am this way, I went back to talking upside-down (and downside-up) talks...the ones I am an expert in. This time it is not a monologue anymore. You know what I mean, don't you? 

So I am back to making my own language based on the words I kind of know somehow. The result? Babylonian speak, but this is just me I am talking about now. My new words sound so sophisticated that my usual monologue transformed into a dialogue...just because I found a chatting he who is willing to appreciate the new words and even use them. What do you think about "perhapness"? Very posh. Almost as aristocratic as "maybeness". Wait, I have another one: "more or lessness". Now this even surprised me. What am I saying? Actually my creativity amassed even me. Wait! Not amazed as ahhh amazed....more like scarred  me, but still...

I have other new words too....as a "maybility" to the old fashioned language. You may like them "perhapship"...or not. Somebody has to stop me, please! Maybe Phil, the guy who reads my blogs...from over the ocean. I know why though. Phil is 80, he's seen so much in his life that a blonde like me looks like nothing to them! Thanks, buddy, nice to know that I am less of a weirdo than a regular blondie. Anyway, the message to you (and I hope others who wonder what's with my silence) is that I am fine and happy and joyful and cheerful and just me. Also that I still mix things and words as I always done, work on new programs, plan some new classes, play with some new ideas that would help in my work....so still me, guys!  Nothing spectacularness, amazingness or fabulousness! Just me!:)

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Never enough

I dream dreams. Have I said it lately? I probably did. So dreams…huge ones. I dream to change the world. Too late; others have been faster. Then to make a change in people around me. Late again. Not that others have been more successful. It's just the fact that people change if and when they want to. No need to help or rush things. What else then? Maybe to change things around me. Now, let me be more specific here. Things are things. You buy them, you enjoy them, you dispose them…best place... in the rubbish for sure. The only dream that would stay straight is changing myself, but this is not a dream at all. It is a requirement really. Once again, I like the me side of myself. I can be grumpy or naughty or stubborn or a dreamer of huge dreams, but this is just me. Change is change and I would do it if I'd have to….and I do. However, there is a side that I will never ever touch….my passions. That's right. I will never change my passions. Never ever…and this is a promise. 

So let me go through what I love most. My children, dancing, my work, dancing, my clients, dancing, my dogs, dancing…and dancing. I could dance forever if I would have the time…but I don't. Prioritize better? Excuse me; I am such a good organizer. The truth is that when I dance I forget about changing the world, people, things around me or myself even. I just dance no matter how hard that is on my knees. I love everything about dancing; my ballet shoes, my dresses, my music, my steps. How long can I do it? Don't ask me; ask God. He would have the right answer. But I have one as well, coming from my own perspective of life. I will dance how long I can and I don't want to miss on any moment. Therefore, I teach others too. Little girlies with big eyes, huge dreams and better knees than mine. And I am loving it so much! So another thing I don't plan changing. 

There is an ahh to dancing. A sorrow or a disappointment maybe….or a real fact? Yep, a fact actually, which is that I would never be as good as I'd want to be. I've seen the Russians dancing. I will never be as good as they are…because they do it for living. And that makes me sad. But I am sure that the Russian ballerinas are sad too. Why? Because they will never ever ever be such good Personal Trainers as I am. Because I am passionate about my work and my clients and I will never change that even if I would make some small changes here and there in my private life. Does that make me happy? For sure because I know how hard I worked to get to where I am know. Personal Trainer forever? Hell yes!!! :)

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Walk tall...if you can!

I love my own company. Always did. You know, that quiet, nice time, when nobody is home and I can do what ever I want. But mostly I love the fact that I don't have to please people...just me. I love, as I've said, to be left on my own at least a weekend a month. Sorry...what I meant is that I loved that, but not anymore. So here is the story. Two days home alone. I planed so hard for them, I had so many things I wanted to do. Like watching the ballet DVD Sylvia, which I never seen before. Then catching up with my housework, cooking myself the most amazing dinners, some great music and a good book. Just girlie time, nothing spectacular for you maybe, but heaven for me. Because I was home alone for two days, the peak of my whole month. That's what you think. The truth is that I forgot that I have three dogs, big boys, who completely ruined everything. They didn't even tried hard...everything came so naturally to them. 

First day looked like this. I cleaned the house, baked and cooked early in the morning. Nothing better than having a great time in a clean environment. My boys didn't agree though, so I ended up vacuuming and moping for six times. I had to admit that I was so happy when finally my dogs got to seep....like around midnight. Up to then, they continuously barked....of happiness...then of sadness....then of hunger....of boredom...or just fighting for my attention....which they got anyway. That's not all: they chased the cat, poor girlie, destroyed my plants, chewed some socks, humped each other, slept on the table (Hendrix of course!), all sorts really. My dogs have imagination! There is nothing they cannot do to upset me. But yes, I had a good night because my dogs decided to sleep deep and get a good rest. Now I know that they just prepared themselves for the next day. 

So second day on my own...with the boys. Vacuuming and moping for eight times! The barking went on and on. Same reasons...nothing really! They haven't humped each other anymore...they humped me. It's just because they love me! They still chased the cat and eat her food from early morning to late evening. And barked...I heard them from my studio....my clients heard them too...and the neighbors as well. But nobody complained. People really like me, I guess, because they put up with the noise made by my boys. But, to be honest, I couldn't handle it anymore. So, I decided to be more offensive...which it didn't help by the way. Therefore, I decided to get back to defense. I put some loud heavy metal on that covered the barking. And I ignored them...boy, I so ignored them. I thought that one of my neighbors would call the noise control or the animal whatever office or the police or somebody and they would just take away my boys. But nah. I believe that my neighbors enjoyed the whole stuff. Maybe they have better earplugs than me.

Anyway, it's evening and the boys will go to bed very soon. Thank goodness, God and whatever saints they are around. Tomorrow will come somehow and I will so enjoy the fact that all the freedom my dogs had for the last two days will just go away. Just like that. Because even they are afraid of somebody. Not me, nah. Otherwise they wouldn't play games with me. So, boys, a few more hours and you'll be in trouble....and I will so enjoy it! Have a great weekend, guys. I know I will! :)

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Blondie the One

I collect smells. The nice ones, of course. Every memory I can recall is related to a different perfume. Let's be more specific here. I haven't ever invented a perfume, but I am working on it and, who knows, maybe someday I will have my own fragrance marketed. Something at least as revolutionary as Chanel No.5. That's not possible, I know, but the thought of changing history makes me so excited. I just want to have the courage Coco had when she said that enough is enough. What adventure really to add musk and jasmine, associated at that time with courtesans and prostitutes, to a single flower smell wore by "decent" ladies! She made the demimonde respectable. I want that! In the meantime, I have to smell the smells around me, get well used to them, mix them in my head and make small steps in identifying characters and personalities according to what fragrance they use. And it works like this. 

First smell in the morning? Burberry. All Brits should wear it. It is so them. So Burberry and coffee of course. Those two already make up another fragrance I could invent one day, but it seems so simple  and a blondie's conclusion would be that...... simple smells are not complicated. Seriously? I could do better than that. So I would just add the smell of burnt toast. That could toughen up the aroma of my first perfume. But wait; there is more to it. A bouquet of scents in my first morning class. Four ladies wearing different perfumes. One of them is distinctive. Opium. It may be the coriander and pepper that stands up. Yes, coriander, what's so funny about it? That and some floral spices of jasmine, rose and lily blended with mandarin, clove, orange and patchouli. I can break the aroma of a perfume and smell separately all the ingredients. I was always able to do that. So I could add some of the ingredients used in Opium to the perfume I would invent...if any. Now Burberry already has mandarin and musk. Then the fresh coffee smell. I would also take  coriander and clove and blend them in. What else? What about some tuberose, nutmeg and Madagascar vanilla from Calvin Klein's Obsession, the perfume my lunch time client wears? That would make it very woody and I kind of like that. I could soften it a little bit by adding some apricot and cashmere. I love the aroma of those two. One of my evening clients wears the fragrance. You know which one. The one very on vogue, Usher She. But no, I wouldn't add garlic just because I wouldn't wear my dinner menu, but I would mix some Cosmopolitan aroma. But no again, because alcohol is the main ingredient in every perfume so why to invent what was already invented? My father used to say that and he was perfectly right. 

Now that I have the ingredients, I would definitely have to name my perfume. What about Blondie the One? I don't even have to add my name to it, because everybody would know it's me behind the fragrance. No marketing? Who cares about it? If you, guys, would buy only one bottle each, I would already have sold over 65,000 bottles. And that's a lot of cash. Or I could give you each a free sample of Blondie the One. Nah, I do that anyway, every single day in my blogs. :)

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60 shades of white

I like colors. Like white. Nah, that's not a color. Then maybe black. That's not a color either. Then all the others. I really do love them all and I dress in all sorts of colors... just because I love them. But I already told you that...a few times.  I may have a colorful life or I may be a colorful person. Either way, I surround myself with colors I love. But lately, even me, the one who, as I've said, loves colors have problems in identifying them. No kidding here. It's not that I wasn't able to learn the names associated to colors (I know them in all sorts of languages). It's just the fact that languages change and new words have different meaning lately... Why? Don't ask me; I asked myself for too long and got to no conclusion really. You still don't believe me? Let me then justify myself. 

I love white; I told you that. But nowdays white comes in at least 60 shades (of white this time; none of them being not even close to grey!). There are warm whites and cold whites. Really? White is white...cold as and, as warmer it, is as creamier it gets. Then I like green. Not so much apple green. Sorry. I forgot that it is an old fashioned term. These days it is called lime green and apparently it is not so popular in the States. Why? Don't ask me; ask them! 

You know how much I love pink, but I have some problems with magenta. You know what I mean. That shade between pink and purple, mostly pink with a purple splash...or something like that. As a little girl, I used to call it freesia pink, but now I am a modern girl, so magenta it is. But just between you and I, pink is just pink. Excuse me if I don't always get more specific when I buy pink dresses online. I should know better. I should remember that the next question an outlet would ask is what kind of pink...baby pink, light pink, hot pink...and the list goes on. There is even a champagne pink. Now give me a break. The color is not even close to strawberry champagne; it is more like a creamier something. Same with turquoise. That great bluish- greenish color. But nah again. The contemporary name is teal, what ever that means.

 I am just a girl who loves colors and colorful outfits. I don't have to know every shade of blue I am no artist and I don't work with color. However, I was asked recently if the dress I want is in Egyptian blue or navy blue. Please tell me the difference cos I don't see any. Not when it's about fabric and dresses. But I don't want to look old fashioned cos I'm not, so I replied after a moment of silence (just to make me look less blonde!) that none of those shades of blue were right with my skin color. I said that the only shade that would made me feel happy was Ultramarine. 1-0 for me, guys. Let them now find the difference cos again not a lot! 

Stop me here please. Don't let me go into the entire polemic regarding black. I have to be very careful when I chose online a black little dress....because black is not black anymore. The store would want me happy so their next question would be licorice black or black bean. Please don't ask me...ask God; he knows everything. I am just a blondie who wants to dress colorful. Also one who is happy to live in the 21st Century. No, not a nana, old fashioned somebody. Therefore, I love the fact that online shops (European ones, of course) ask all these questions about shade of colors. I would never admit I have no idea what they want. I will just pick one of their options and wear the outfit as it is...like there is no tomorrow. Because I know better....that black is black and white is white. 

But I am not surprised that we are saying something and understanding something else. New names are given to old things...to make them look less (or more important). There is no abortion anymore....we call it termination now. No divorces....just separations. No mistresses....just the other women. No drugs...just recreational stuff. No hopeless/ useless wealthy nobodies....we call them now socialites. I could give you more examples, but I am sure you know them all....because they are used every day...by everybody. See you, guys, tomorrow...which these days is CU:)

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What the day brings

I always wondered what the next day might bring. Just imagine me contemplating at the end of each day. Nah, nothing like that.... just a question to myself regarding the day ahead. Sometimes I may even have a spark of intuition, but don't take it literally. It may be inner perception as well as just a guess based on interference of reasons, which is far from what Carl Jung called "an irrational function". Is intuition just a function opposed to thinking and feeling as per Jung or much more than that? To be honest, I couldn't care less about defining it, but I do care about the accuracy of the images that  sometimes my brain is  able to put together prior to facts hapening. Blonde brain though! Let me just explain how this works. 

End of the day, mostly good, except the odd things. The good news though is that I survived another day, learnt so much, smiled a lot and hoped more than normal. So evening as I've said, a time when Hendrix, my 8 months old puppy, snores like a man, in his bed next to mine. So, no worries anymore.... Hendrix is asleep! Just time for myself and my thoughts....blonde as we already agreed on! But wait. I forgot to explain why this silence. I took today Hendrix to the beach. Peak of his day by the way; mummy -Hendrix time! To be honest, I kind of taken him out....just because, by the way he pulled, he sort of walked me...as he does! Anyway, we were the only ones on the beach, so we enjoyed it all....until I realized that we are in that season when dogs are not allowed on the beach during the day. Lucky nobody seen us! 

Then the other two dogs went for a walk...not with me though. Left behind just with me, Hendrix threw a tantrum. His speciality! A big tantrum with crying, yelling, barking, collapsing...everything Hendrix does best! He's an expert by the way. I am an expert in calming him...with treats. Anyway, the day is almost gone and I am thinking what I have expected of it and what I got. What I wanted was another story, too long and much too personal, so I am not sharing it..... not even with you. What I got? Exactly what I usually get. Nothing. A big fat nothing. So if you ever wonder what the day is going to bring, don't! Because I have the answer. Nothing! But if you ask yourself what has this got to do with intuition, I hold that answer too. Nothing! It may if you are an introvert or if you know how to read the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, apparently the only one able to identify and measure your ego function. In this case you may relate my dream about not getting anything to getting nothing. There is a small chance of putting them together. But again....don't...because I know that nothing means nothing. And who says that dreams have to come true? They usually don't!  So, let's somehow conclude. If I ever dream (and I've done it so many times!!!) that Hendrix is just a normal, well behaved puppy, with or without any intuition, this wouldn't happen in the real world! Not now, not tomorrow (not ever?), amen. This is all I can say. The rest, as I've said, it's just history!  A very personal one!

Intuition didn't even worked in regards to my blogs. I hoped that some people, maybe one, mostly two, would read my blogs. Never in my hopeless hopes thought to get to over 65,000 readers. Thanks, guys, you rock. You are the ones who prove that Jung's theory doesn't always work. Thanks New Zealand, USA (my most frequent readers), UK, Ireland (love you guys, love your emails!), Canada, Australia, South Korea, Spain, France, Germany, Switzerland, Hungary, Romania, Mexico, Denmark (I have great memories, all in your country), China, Portugal, India, Philippines, Ukraine, Belarus and Turkey (welcome aboard!), Bulgaria and Indonesia. Thank you all! Have a great weekend! :)

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Thanks for my life!

My life is kind of smooth...velvet smooth...lately. It's not because something very bombastic happened that made me gain more confidence. I never had confidence problems and, to be honest, shyness is not something that characterize me. Remember I am blonde? Anyway, back to my smooth life please. So yep, velvet as I've said...and because it is as it is, I decided yesterday to acknowledge and be grateful for every little aspect of my velvety life (at the end of the day, velvet is a royal fabric). There are so many things I have to be thankful for and I don't even know where to start from. After going around in circles for a whole day hoping  to find a starting point that I can thank the creator entity for, I kind of got tired...and bored...as I usually do. But I learnt a lesson and made a decision: I will be grateful for things as they come into my life. One at a time...no more pressure anymore. 

I was driving home when I came to this conclusion. I just spent a great evening with my dear friends Chele and Kev. Great evening? What I am talking about? The best ever, so this is my starting point. I am grateful for my friends, peeps who love me the way I am, don't try to change me only to match the times we are part of. Great start...great friends. While I said my humbled thanks (no, not loud, cos I am not one of those who speak to themselves!), my phone rang. Text message from my girlie Miriam. We text a lot Miriam and I.  My kids are my weak point....and my strong one too. I am so grateful for them both. How can I not be? They are smart, beautiful people...like me. Ooops, I shouldn't have said that about myself, but it's done. 

What else should I be grateful for? Hendrix of course. Hendrix, my eight months old puppy makes my life interesting. That's true. My life is definitely not boring (it's like I am...). My dear boy learnt (finally) to jump on the table so he doesn't have to struggle anymore to pull things I sort of hide on the table. Yes, my boy is growing and, as he does, he finds more ways of of keeping me occupied. So thanks, Hendrix for everything...I mean absolutely everything. Now, if I am grateful for him, I should also be for the other two dogs I own, Max for the last 12 years, and Neo just because he is related to somebody I chose to be related to. I know it seems complicated, but it's not. However, don't think too much...it may become complicated after all.  Not so complicated like the relationship between some of my dogs (Hendrix only) and my cats Mr. King and Ms. Lily. I am so grateful for them as well.

I want to be fair, so, a list would be awesome... but I am not the girl with the list (nor the one with the dragon tattoo; I have different tattoos!). So thanks for my super clients (I love them all), my house and garden (I am so lucky having a home when others don't!), my studio (that I totally adore), being healthy....and super happy, my ballet shoes, my little car (still goes strong, my girlie car!), the holiday I will be having in January, actually for everything and everybody in my life. For you too, guys, you who read my blogs come back for more and email me the most amazing emails. I am grateful even for being blonde. It's easier like this. People don't expect too much from me so I can surprise them from time to time. I just hope that at least one of the people I am thankful for would be grateful for me...or not!  Have a great weekend, guys! :)

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