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! :)

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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! 

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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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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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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! :)

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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 :)

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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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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What money can buy!

An old saying states that money, fame and beauty won't buy us  happiness. Depends on what happiness means for each of us, some of you may argue. If one cannot live without a kg of gold around the neck, then money is the answer. But that's not me! I am quite a simple person underneath my blondness...and I am not high maintenance at all...except to myself. Therefore I believe what others smarter than me believe in. Like in that saying about money and happiness. Understand me here, guys. I am not against money, nor spending what one earns through hard work. I love surrounding myself with beautiful, girlie things and I know that they all cost money. But I wouldn't sell my soul for them. I prefer investing in people. That will always pay off. 

So, recently I was fortunate enough to spend a great holiday in Fiji. Land of heaven, by the way! For those of you who have been there, I am not saying anything new. You have seen the resorts, all five stars, all opulent and all full of much more than one would ever need. Like their shops for example. Most of them jewellery shops with whatever your hearts desire. One of them caught my attention because it had the most amazing moonstone pendant....as cheap as 11,800 Aussie dollars. I looked and looked and looked again and then I decided to touch it. So I asked the beautiful girl behind the counter to let me try it on. Don't worry, guys, I couldn't afford it and, even if I did, I wouldn't want it. But I love moonstones and I couldn't resist. I wore the pendant for a second and I gave it back to the shop assistant. I walked back to the resort I stayed in for the rest of my holiday, but I couldn't stop asking myself who could ever spend that ridiculous amount of money on a pendant. It bothered me for the next few days....just until the bus left me in the city. The real city with a real heart. With poverty more than  anyone expects to see! But with real good people. Nothing virtual, nothing fake, just hard life! I remembered the pendant while observing how rough life can be for some and I asked myself how many people can be saved with the amount the moonstone pendant worth...or how many local kids can be put through school by somebody who may have the cash to buy the moonstone beauty. 

Beauty is sublime tough, so the next day  I went back to the shop that had the most beautiful moonstone pendant ever. It was gone...somebody bought it; somebody who had the money to throw on a piece of jewellery... Nothing wrong with that. I just hope that the owner of the moonstone remembers that money cannot buy happiness and that she is still the same person with or without the pendant. I also hope that the lucky lady asks herself the same questions that obsessed me and decides to make a change. She or her man has the cash and can give a few kiddies the chance to go to school and learn to read and write. I hope they do! And if they don't, we, who cannot afford an expensive moonstone pendant, will! :)

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Angels all around

Lately I Lately I see repeating numbers. Not dead people, no. Just numbers. Anytime I look at the clock, is 11:11. Sometimes 2:22...or 3:33 or even 4:44. Never 5:55 because at that time I have something better to do than checking the time. Like cooking dinner...or enjoying the end of the day...my style! Anyway, I am not the one who let things go, so I decided to solve the mystery. My options are booking a clairvoyant, who may cost me some money I don't want to spend, or puting together the pieces. Myself! That would give me something to do and make me be less common...which I am anyway. So, Google is the answer. As usual... 254 websites debating the repeating numbers enigma. Apparently people like me (bored or just blonde) complain about the same annoying numbers. Depending on the website's author the numbers are signs from angels or guide souls or supernatural mystic/ occult creatures. All masters of white magic, no doubt. I went through every possible explanations, but nothing appeared as being my final and supreme answer.  I had time to google through and about because today I was home alone. Don't you love those days when the only person you have to take care of is you?  So I googled...and googled. Then something caught my attention and even obsessed me for an hour or so. A smart person behind one of those cleaver websites believes that seeing repeating numbers is a sign that one is connected to the global reality. Finally I belong to the amazing greatness Universe... somehow...That makes me so proud which definitely increases my self esteem by 100%. Or even more. 

Now, let me tell you how connected to the reality I really am. So aware of what's around me that I locked my door and realised a fraction of a second later that my keys are on the bench top. I even seen them  through the window. I tried asking Hendrix, my dear puppy, to bring them to me, but he didn't hear me...or at least that's how he looked. So, in the awareness spirit, I climbed the bathroom window, that would let a child fit through...not me. Lucky I am stubborn and I was able, after a few attempts. to get in the house....on a thief entry style. 

In the spirit of the same connectivity, I forgot in the shop the purseI just bought. I may be blonde, but I have style. Believe me. A girlie red purse I love to bits. You would as well! Am I so blonde? Apparently I am. My luck was that that lady behind the counter was not and she kept the purse until the blondie me came back to pick it up. So I have it. Lucky me!

Then, surrounded by the reality that I am connected to, according to the famous website, I decided to apply a nice nail polish. One that would work with the holiday spirit I am in. But it didn't. I am not a gold girl (nail polish removal worked just fine!), nor a silver one (nail polish removal was my salvation again!). Back on the subject (awareness of course!), I chose the right one....pink, no question here! 

With the nails just painted according to my standards, I locked the suitcase I just filled in with items I cannot live without in my holiday...that starts tomorrow, guys. Yay. Now, wait a sec. I locked it as locked without any chance of opening it. I forgot the combination. Not my fault. Just me and my stupid blonde brain! So, I reconnected to the reality and for more than an hour I stayed put...and connected. Just while I tried and tried every combination possible. I got it finally because my angels helped. That's what another website says. Angels all around you, all willing to help if you allowed them to. And I did.

Now, I am not going further with how I spent my only day when I was home alone. Nothing I planed happened. But no worries. I am connected to the Universe and the reality I live in. I am...my way!

Have a great weekend, guys. I am just about to start my holiday...on an island, coconut trees all around, pools and waves, saunas and spas...and fun. Lots of it! And please don't google website after website if you see repeating numbers. Just ask me. I know what it means. Nothing really! :)

Sexual offended

I said in one of my previous blogs that I own 100 dresses. I lied and I'm sorry. The truth is that I have in my wardrobe over 200...or even more. So I lied and this is because I didn't want to offend people. Not that people should be offended because I am able to have a different look every day. Fashion is my thing....nothing wrong with that. Coco Chanel once said that " a girl should be two things: classy and fabulous". Like my friend. She is young, beautiful and...blonde. And no, I won't give you her name, but I am more than happy share her story. 

My friend I was telling about works for a fun company, based in the city. Fab work environment, young team, just an amazing job. So she dresses funky and everything she wears suits her. She has style, my chick! Last week, after a girlie catch up, she decided to stay over and borrowed one of my dresses for work. Of course that after a quick look in my wardrobe, she chose a little black designer dress I bought in the UK. Don't even ask how hard it was to get it! The dress looked amazing on her, I thought. But no, not everybody had the same opinion. My girlie was called in the HR office, where a woman, looking more like a man by the way, let her know that she got a complaint about the way she looked. Apparently the dress offended a misterious mid age man from another office. She was also told that the building accommodates several companies and that there was a dress code in place for the whole building, no matter what the companies allowed their employees to wear. On top of that, the manly HR woman told my little friend that this time she was willing to kind of forget the incident, but next time....

Now let's set the things straight because enough is just enough. This is my dress...one that I really like. Then, it is a true designer dress called "the little black office dress". Hello! The designer created this dress (I paid a bucket of coins for) ...for an office. I won't mention the designer's name because I don't want him to be offended by the small brain and bad taste of a HR person. But that's not all. The dress is not indecent. At all! But even if it was, I am just wondering why on earth a man should be offended by what a stranger woman may wear. And is that man paid to notice who's wearing what or to do a job? Also is it so easy to place a complaint? Is there no rule of what  one can complain about? Because if there is not, every bored person or why not every perv can complain about and against what every woman wears. 

I haven't met the rude HR woman who made my friend cry. But if I've met her, I would ask her what was the complainer offended by? Cause if the nature is sexual, then my friend should be offended as well. You would be too knowing that there is a perve watching what you wear and what does your dress cover and what not. So, Madame (yes, the "e" at the end is intentional), your role is to be neutral. You're not a lawyer, nor a  judge and you shouldn't take a complaint before checking it is has a real base. Cos it didn't even if you don't know that! You cannot comprehend that by the way because tasteless clothing offends people in style and stylish clothes offends idiots. And you're a woman too and you should know that women fought and died for us, 21st Century's ladies, to have the freedom to wear all sorts. And just because you have no style it doesn't mean that others should follow you. Women like you stop young girls to express themselves through what they wear. Their style is their fingerprint and nobody should stay between them and their desire to be different.  You should know that cos you are a woman too and you've been a young girl at some stage....even if you forgot about that!


I have a word or two for the complainer too. Dude, get a life...and a job that doesn't allow you to look at young girls' dresses. One that keeps you occupied with serious things. And next time you are about to complain remember that woman are not toys...anymore. Thank God! Also remember how small you are! :)

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Portret of a scammer

When I was a little girl, I used to pray every day for friends. I wanted as many as possible. Then I realised that there are friends....and friends. The second I heard about Picasso,  I changed my prayer. If he asked for a museum to fill it with his paintings, I begged for a long life to fill it with amazing people. I was blessed so far, I have to admit it. I had good peeps around, who made my heart singing. And I had sneaky ones too. Some of them evaporated like they never existed, leaving behind a not so nice smell. Others lingered around for far too long. Those are my 2014 challenge!  

So, 2014 is the year when I'd make sure that I'd worship what's good in my life and get rid of what's rotten. It is about the time for a change, isn't it? Even a blondie like me knows that nothing is official unless is public...on Facebook. So let's start with Facebook. I am not too worried about the number of people I may be in contact with everyday. My target is...dodgy people with bad influences on my wellbeing. Like that guy who sent me a personal message in my "Other" folder. I never met the guy before, I never checked my other folder and I never knew that there is a folder called "Other". But there is one and all the society junk is stored there. Anyway, back to the guy. He founds me hot. Nothing wrong with that. It's just the fact that I am not interested in you, dude, who ever you may be. Nor in the other one....in the same other folder...who hoped that I had a great day so far. It's really comforting knowing that somebody cares about my day...not so much. What about the guy who, without any introduction, wants to meet me? ASAP like the world would end today... Not likely though! Wait. There is another lad. Let me quote this one. "You are so beautiful, dear. I want to marry you. Add me as a friend". No way, Facebook fellow, no way! I have my future plans and you are not part of them! I have to admit that the sweetest message came from a somebody who says he loves me and wants to know if I could possibly love him back. Maternal love, mate, cos you look half my ages. What about if I nicely block you all...without opening other messages in my weird folder called "Others"? Just like that. 

With that done, I moved to Skills Pages. Two guys wanted to add me to their network. What network are we talking about cos I have no clue? You have no businesses and I don't even understand what on earth are you doing on a skills website...when you have no skills. Then there is a personal message from a guy who I may have added by mistake in the past to my network. He passes me his phone number, urging me to give him a call because he has something important to share with me. Important and confidential. Why would I do that and who are you by the way? Wait, I know. Just another guy I am blocking. Right now. 

I don't even bother with Twitter. I cannot stop peeps following me there, but I can unfollow a few. Which I'd gladly do. What can I do about that dude on Linkedin who heck knows why messages me on this social network. He wants to know more about me...on Skype. He even decided that I am the one. The one who reports him for sure. With that done, I opened another message from a decent man (his words, not mine), widowed and single father of 2 little girls. Wait a second! If I check back, all the guys on Linkedin who sent me love messages lost their wives of cancer and all have one or even two little girlies who need a mother. Look into Mother Earth, guys, she may be a better one than me. All I can do is get rid of you by deleting you from my network. Done. I feel happier know. 

I have a few words from my blog followers as well. I mean the dodgy ones, not the honest readers. With these is another story. I can check the country they  wrote me from. No, not the one they say they live in...the real one. Let me quote one dude. "My ballerina, allow me to know you better". Now, let's set things straight. First of all I am not yours. Never been, never will be. Secondly, I am not a ballerina and lastly it takes two for a relationship....which I am not willing to be part of. Same for you, who ever you were, who emailed me "meet me over dinner". How can I? You say you are in Australia...but you live in Nigeria. For real. Then , I wouldn't meet you for the world. I meet who ever I want to and you are not part of my wishing list. Nobody is, by the way! So email address blocked, sorry dude! 

Now, who are all these guys and what do they want? Most of them scammers. They don't just want to steal our, poor blondes', time, feelings and dreams. They look at the bigger picture. Their focus is on our money. What money really? Their messages seem written by the same hand. Like a set up script. Their photos are great and that makes them even more doubtful. They all look like movie stars, they all kind of were born in the States even if they live somewhere else at the moment. And they all "dear" us, girlies. Wake up, guys. Nobody "dears" these days anymore! Some have lost their wives and their tragedies bring tears to our eyes; others have been cheated on by their exes and are single dads. Poor them... Until I don't forget. They are all engineers with a technical Bachelor under their pillows. They all look successful. Now let me tell you something, "dears". Not every engineer is God's greatest gift. I met some assholes! Also success doesn't mean wealth and beauty comes from inside. I am not impressed by your airbrushed photos, nor by your technical background. I have a hammer myself and I sort of know how to use it. But I have a special message for any blondies around reading my blog today. You and I know that we, blondes, may have dumb smiles, but we are quite sharp minded. Legally blonde proved it! Don't get in love with jerks. And I am not talking here about internet scammers. Just jerks in general. You deserve better. Nature blessed you with blonde hair. Get the right guys. I did! :)

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