doing well, thank you very much

So I started regular massages and my feet are back together with my shoes.

I try to be more careful with what I eat. I had more salad last week than I had for the last two years. And I HATE salads. 

salad

Wearing high heels, especially my Casadeis makes me so happy already, but there’s still a lot of steep long way to go, as in losing a lot of weight and fitting in my wardrobe. No, not in the actual wardrobe as in furniture, but my wide range of clothing. 

From Monday I am starting my Pilates classes. I begged for a very tolerant instructor. I had my eye on a blonde, graceful smiling sunny lady, but she’s free next week. 

So they put me in someone else’s class instead. She seems a cross between a drill sergeant and an keen bulldog. We shall see whether she is as scary as she looks. I don’t want to burst in tears from my first session.

On the other hand I have experience with tough instructors. A few years ago, I subscribed to an Aqua gym class. For Christ sake, that woman was a Nazi. Shouting and scaring the shit out of me, I was panting desperately and swallowing gallons of water. 

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By the end of the training, I was her favorite student, best buddies and an example for the others. Let’s see if I can pull that again!

time to rise and shine… again

 

A few months ago, while I was with my best friend on Easter holiday, she told me in a worried voice: “I don’t know why you gave up on yourself”. 

I pondered for a long time on that phrase. I realised that I became a mixture of self-loathing, narcissism, procrastination, over all exhaustion… 

Wonder_Woman_Ross_h1

And I hit rock bottom. I was feeling physically ill, my feet and legs were swollen like balloons, my precious shoes didn’t fit anymore. 

Surprisingly, this was the tipping point. Breaking off with my shoes was unacceptable. 

So it stops here. I started swimming and having regular massages. I already feel better and willing to fight my demons. 

I need to like myself again. The battle began.

 

the brave parents

This is a truly bitchy post. So stop reading right now and move on to another blog. 

I have very strong opinions about people who reproduce only because “it’s time”, peer pressure, archaic family model, to strengthen the bond with their partner (newsflash: studies show that a new born is the most common reason couples grow apart or break), to pass the financial crisis by being in maternity leave so they have a safe income and cannot be fired etc.

Unfortunately, most people reproduce for these reasons and we are way too many on this planet already.

dog1 DOG3 dog2

In the meantime, I have the highest respect for the people that decide to adopt an animal and treat HIM or HER like a member of the family, an offspring.

Because they understand from the beginning they are in for grief.

First, they are babies. They ruin things, they pee and poop everywhere, they chew shoes, they cry when left alone, they cry when they are hungry or just demanding for attention.

Fast, too fast, they become adults. They understand wrong for right, they become the loyal companion, the best friend, support in time of sorrow, partner in time of joy. They comfort you, the cuddle next to you, they lick you, love you with their huge hearts and generally offer you more than you can ever offer them. 

And they grow old. They become grumpy, sick, they need help, assistance, treatment, time. Suddenly, they are your dear grandparents. 

And way too soon you have to let go. You’re helpless, no matter what. So helpless that you’re angry. No matter how much you prepare for this moment, it hurts excruciatingly. It’s your baby. If you’re lucky, you spent a decade or two with this loving angel. Sometimes unfairly less. 

Now this is what I call brave. To see your children die and your heart ripped out of your chest.  

ALF2 ALF3

decline of femininity

BB

Screen Shot 2014-07-31 at 11.49.30 AM Screen Shot 2014-07-31 at 11.50.05 AM Screen Shot 2014-07-31 at 11.50.15 AM

 

When the fuck did we lose our femininity?

When the fuck did women become men with more or less boobs, marching like soldiers, with fit, toned, non-sexual bodies?

I see girls on the street. They look good, beautiful features, long silky hair, great bods. Yet… no appeal, no sensuality. 

I blame it on the Americans and the WWII, when women started building weapons and when their husbands returned from war, they refused to quit jobs and return to the kitchen. 

I don’t blame the suffragettes, they were a joke. 

I also blame men for becoming weak and helpless, basically because their mothers raised them poorly. They grew up believing they deserve everything. They keep looking for overprotective mothers in their lives, so they stay helpless babies. 

So women grew balls. Their wasp waists thickened, their shoulders broadened to carry feeble men and spoiled children. 

Oh, I don’t encourage vulgarity, but femininity. That fragile creature, with a kitten purring voice that swings her hips, plays with a lock of her hair, smiles sweetly, rocks an evening gown and walks gracefully in high heels. 

Please, women, reclaim your right to be sex kittens!

 

BB SJ

it’s been one year

… since I lost the love of my life, my partner, my soul mate, my baby. I couldn’t write about him, I wasn’t able to compose a eulogy, because I was out of words.

He was perfect and he granted me 18 years of reasons to come home. Home was where ALF was. Few months earlier I lost Blondie, my lovely girl.

I am still at loss for words, when thinking of them. I just miss them like crazy and they are irreplaceable in my life.

I don’t want to start listing their immeasurable qualities, because this post might never end.

Also, unless you had a close relation with an animal, you can’t understand how hurtful the loss is.

I was left with my “little one”, the black Tom that was never able to mature, to grow old, he stayed a baby, cared and pampered by Blondie and ALF.

In days after ALF was gone, I noticed he was flickering like a candle, unable to go on by himself. He wasn’t alone for a day in his life and he couldn’t understand where did his “parents” go.

As a perpetual child, he couldn’t grasp the concept of loss and death. He was just immensely sad and alone.

So an angel (I supposed it was ALF) sent us the huge, gorgeous German Queen to ease the pain.

She didn’t replace ALF or Blondie, but she has traces that keep both of them as alive and present as ever.

Her beauty replicates Blondie’s, and her nature reminds me of my Love.

To all of them, my love, my heart, my forever.

baby blondie tJ

happily ever after

scorpion_and_the_frog_story

There’s this new trend that advises moms to stop reading fairy tales to their daughters, especially the ones with the classic “prince rescues girl” plot.

Feminists claim that such tales create unrealistic expectations on relationships and don’t empower women.

I say fuck them! At least as a girl, one should believe that Prince Charming would come to the rescue. Well, meet him half way – leave a glass shoe behind, let down your hair from the tower, parade in a glass casket carried by seven dwarfs, so Prince Charming notices you.

But unless he’s able to ride a charmed stallion, defeat dragons and ogres, kill evil witches for you, well, clearly he’s just a frog, no need to kiss him.

I’m a hopeless romantic and I want a strong man. I want to feel protected and safe, I don’t want to save him. If he’s in need of saving, he’s a loser.

I know I don’t fit the part of the damsel in distress: I’m far from fragile, both psychically and emotionally. I drive a car, I can unclog a drain, change a shower head or a light bulb. For heavy-duty housework, I can hire men.

But I would cherish a PARTNER, an equal or even a man I can look up to. A very uncomplicated interaction. No doubts, questions, luggage from previous relationships, teenager angst, rebel without a cause, looking for a purpose in life, bla-bla-loser. Just a straightforward partnership.

Lately I hear more and more often about princesses that save frogs. She has a job, he doesn’t. She has a career, he is depressed and disoriented, so he stays at home. She earns handsomely, his business went under, and so she has to pay his debts.

No more of that. Nevermore. Why the fuck would I carry a man on my back? Why settle for this?! Why? I don’t get these women.

So when you ask me why I’m that involved in helping strays, I’m asking you back: why are you saving losers?

faithful versus loyal

Image

Yup, long time, no writing. Because of bad times and good times.

What determined me to write again was this thing I saw one of these days: a lady dragging a dog in a leash and a guy walking side by side with his dog, leash being mostly ornamental.

I encourage every person to keep his or her dog on a leash, for safety reasons. Even the most well behaved dog can jump startled by a car horn or a sudden noise, an unexpected association of a color or a shape with a potential danger.

Hence all the lost dogs posted on Facebook.

Yet this post is not about dogs basically. It was just a strong visual that generated the thought. The lady dragging the leash was obviously in a dysfunctional relationship with her dog, miscommunication, lack of patience and skill from the human, bewilderment and stress from the dog. The other couple, the guy and the dog walking side by side – perfect match, harmony, balance, patience and understanding.

Human relationships are much the same. Abuse can have many manifestations, some not so obvious as beating or other forms of trauma. Taking a person for granted, expecting them to behave in a certain way, without ever ever ever enunciating your rules of engagement, and being frustrated “they just don’t get it.”

This applies in all sorts of interactions: lovers, friends, workmates, parents – children, store clerk – client.

Speak up, be sincere, be clear, ask for what you want. Listen, understand, try to meet the requests.

BUT it’s not that easy. Sometimes you think you know what you want and you ask for what you want and yet… Maybe you don’t know what you want, maybe you’re scared to speak up, maybe the truth hurts. Maybe you don’t want to admit what you want.

So everything goes sour. Dysfunctional relationships core.

So every step of the way, know thyself, don’t torment your close ones because YOU have issues. Fight your own battles by yourself, don’t make innocent victims on the way.

Don’t abuse your partner, your best friend, your parent / child because you are unhappy with yourself.  

Don’t blame anyone for your failures, learn to say “it’s MY fault”. It hurts like hell, but it heals faster.

Wow, a lot of don’ts in this piece, let’s try some dos:

Do appreciate what you have, cherish the people that cherish you, thank God for your qualities, your good health (when applied), your lucky breaks, your successes, pets, sunrises, music, whatever can make you happy.

Have an innocent crush, have a hot affair, have a fling, have a passion, have a shitload of passions, live, LIVE. No regrets for the past, no worries for the future.

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