Whispers.

When the world is too quiet, or when the world is too noisy is when you can hear the whispers. With the sound of your voice but in a language you can’t quite understand, they speak to you when you have nothing to say.

All day long people talk to me. They tell me about their lives, their dreams and their problems. My place would be to listen; to empathise; to comprehend and perhaps advise them or offer solutions when possible. But since the voices started, I can’t hear the sound of anybody else’s voice but my own. I can see their lips moving but I can’t seem to grasp anything that’s coming from their mouths. I manage to escape with a couple of programmed answers and limit myself to only respond when spoken to.

The sound of my voice is louder than any of the whispers; it is a stranger to me.
Now that I need most to listen it, it has nothing to say to me.
Silence.
And then the whispers speak to me. They recall memories and fill my thoughts with ideas of nothing and everything important. They seem to make perfect sense but nothing they tell me can be put into words.
Madness.
Is the stress I’m under finally driving me to insanity? Perhaps I’ve stopped while the world is still spinning, or I’m the one spinning too fast whilst the world remains in slow motion…
Confusing but comforting, the only thing the whispers guarantee me is that this too will pass… And at a time when I can no longer grasp at anything concrete, step one is learning once again how to breathe.

Am I listening? Maybe Not…
Are you listening? Perhaps I too have something important to tell you.
When my mind has wondered and my thoughts are in space, words lose their effect.
If I there’s reply and your words are beyond my reach,
Whisper in my ear.

Runaways

Have you ever met someone that disappeared before you touched them? They might’ve taken you right to edge but turned back just seconds before you jumped. You might just have encountered a runner… someone who knows the road to heaven but comes back without having knocked on the door. Of course there is a valid reason for her behaviour! Maybe she didn’t want to disturb the inhabitants, arguing that she’d arrived at an improper hour or even that she was sure that there was nobody home because all the curtains had been shut. Whatever the excuse, it will definitely be acceptable and understandable to the person she’s justifying herself too.

Never getting sick of meeting new people, I was surprised to find this runaway in a group of friends of a less restricted and non-conservative nature. You wouldn’t recognise her at first because of the confident way she carries herself. Almost unawares of the interest placed on her, she talked and danced freely. The fact that she would dance with almost anyone who got close to her made it almost impossible to identify her runaway nature, but if you observed closely there were hints that gave her away. Like the fact that she wouldn’t look into the eyes of the men she danced with or that she put distance between them each time they began coming too close. Although it only fired up surrounding efforts, she would be leaving the dance floor the same way she got on… unaccompanied.

A runaway isn’t a professional tease. She’s a woman that runs from her heart’s desires and through a pool of tears she told me her story:

Last night all I really cared for was dancing. Having a great time with my friends was my only objective and as usual, although I kept an eye out for good-looking guys, I wasn’t interested in meeting any of them. For a while now, my friends had been hinting that a good friend of mine was interested in a little more than just a friendly relationship with me. I was surprised that he’d even noticed me that way and left with the confusing question of whether or not I wanted the same thing. He wasn’t particularly good looking but he had deep blue, caring eyes and an amazing smile. He had many similar interests to mine and I knew that a relationship with him would be something lasting. A woman just knows when a man is worth it. There might be guys that you have doubts with, but with some, you just know that they’ll treat you the way you deserve. My stomach knotted with butterflies and with the help of surrounding encouragement, I attempted to get to know him just a little better. As the evening wore on, I discovered that he had interesting conversation and an amazing sense of humour. I couldn’t believe that he was such great company and found myself wanting to discover the taste of his lips. Being responsible for taking a drunken friend home, I accompanied him to his apartment where his friend would sleep off his condition on his couch. It was only in the privacy and silence of his apartment that suddenly my senses began ringing with warning bells. At first I told myself to relax and go with the flow but eventually I began convincing myself that I was tired and really needed to take a cab home. Responding to his silent plea, I sat next to him and put my head on his shoulder listening to his racing heartbeat. The tension almost snapped with what seemed like an eternity of silence under his arm and just as I was about to announce my departure he suggested that I stay the night. Afraid that I’d choke, I nodded, telling myself that it was insane to walk home at six in the morning. I got into the strange bed and swallowed hard when I got no response to the question of where he would be sleeping. It wasn’t that I was afraid of sex or that I wasn’t capable but I wasn’t too sure that I wanted to go all the way, nor was I certain about the consequences. In fact, I wasn’t even sure that I really wanted to find out what his kiss was like. With immense patience he moved closer and stopped just close enough so that I could feel him breathing. I began talking to ease the tension. Robbed of all intelligent conversation, I told him about my plant called Julie and suggested that she was worried about me and that I should go home. He laughed and humoured my tension by continuing the talk. The care in his eyes and delicacy in his touch did nothing to relieve my tension and I was afraid that I’d start crying when he ran his fingers through my hair. It was on the moment that he put his hand on my waist that I bolted. Naturally I was careful in leaving with courtesy, not leaving any tension between the two as if my going home was the obvious conclusion to the evening. But the minute I closed the apartment door behind me, I ran out the building faster than you can say “go”. Relief mixed with regret was all the adrenalin I needed to get me home and once I got there I sat and cried for no reason. That’s just me… I’m a professional runaway.

Professional therapy? Nah, that’s not exactly what our friend needs. We all runaway from something. Some people run from themselves, others from their past, many from change; our friend just happens to run from her deepest desires. The desire to be touched and loved is so deep that she simply will not trust it with just anyone. And so before getting hurt… she runs. On the following day, she encountered him again as if nothing had happened. They smiled and joked and didn’t touch on the subject of the night before. On this particular day another friend of hers took advantage of his massages and the careful way he stroked her hair while they watched a movie. I could see the inner fight inside our runaway. She watched knowing perfectly well, that the seat next to him was hers to take if she wanted it. The want and unwanted flashed in her head and pure torture is what she put herself through, unnoticed by everyone else. She wanted so badly to be held and caressed but would without a doubt bolt for the door if he attempted to do just that.

How to overcome the fear? Therapy couldn’t possibly do the mind work that she requires to do on her own to overcome her problem. Otherwise, it’s going to have to take one very determined man with a strong personality to grab her before she has a chance to run. Either way, it seems like only love can fuel either option if not both. No other reason seems strong enough to encourage the change. I suppose love is the only darn good reason to turn in your running shoes.

Great Sex

A professional pimp told me that you could tell just by observing someone whether they’re a good lay or not. I have to admit, that I was quite impressed with his insight into character. If you ignore his moral standards, you find that with a little self-discipline, he could probably become a professional psychologist, one of the best. So what where the three requisites for being good in bed?
A large penis for a male or a sexy body for a woman
Being gay, an artist or great on the dance floor
Having sex with someone you’re completely in love with

Circumstantial evidence? Perhaps… but consider the following:
In the first case if you consider that sex is always good for a man no matter what it is that he’s screwing, you could say he’d be pretty satisfied if the woman he did it with was the envy of every other man and woman. Even if she felt like an ironing board in bed, the fact that all the curves were in the right places and she was good looking would guarantee most male satisfactions. One could argue that size doesn’t count… but tell that to a woman that feels completely filled by her partner. No matter the rhythm that he goes at, any movement he makes will be pleasurable inside.
The second count can be strongly debated, however you have to admit that a gay person should know his/her body better than anyone and satisfying the same sex would be like satisfying him or herself which he/she should know how to do very well, considering that we all know where we like to be touched best. An artist can only be successful because he/she pays very careful attention to fine detail. A man or woman with enough patience to analyse and carefully explore their partner’s body is definitely bound to find the most secretive and highly sensitive buttons to press. Press enough buttons and you’re bound to get explosive results even before copulation. Rhythm is the key to being a great dancer, if you know how to feel the music and get your body in sync with the beat; not only will you look good and attract attention but you will also know how to get in sync with your partners body. Body movement is not only erotic but also a major key in driving a partner to orgasm. Intercourse requires just as much rhythm and movement as dancing. Lastly we’re left with the third point that is most argued, especially by men. One man even insisted that sex with strangers was much better than with his girlfriend. I suppose that could be true if it means that with a stranger you release all taboos and get a high from the danger of being caught. But if there’s lack of excitement in your relationship then I pity the lack of imagination and question the fear of evaluation!
So why does love guarantee great sex? Maybe because love entails putting your partners needs above your own. In a world where your main objective is to satisfy the person you’re with and take them to extreme heights, you end up delaying your own pleasure to reach this goal. If the other person has the same goal, it should lead to one very long night of amazing sex. And even if they objective isn’t the same… you have to admit that the more you delay your pleasure, the bigger the explosion is when you can contain it no longer. Making love doesn’t necessarily mean that it has to be slow, in opposition to sex it just guarantees a more pleasurable and satisfying experience in where more than just an orgasm is built between two people.

Touch.

It’s what connects two people, two bodies and turns it into one. For a man with low morals I was surprised to hear that he agreed completely with my theory of the key to great sex. The secret key that sums the three points and guarantees great sex is touch. You need to touch the person’s soul before you touch their bodies.

Shhhh… it’s a secret!

Be careful what you wish for...

When you’re growing up, adults annoy you with clichés of time and it’s unpredictability. They feed you nonsense like “Time is a teacher” “All in it’s given time” or even “With time comes all the answers”. These clichés are a great way of adults getting their way without having to give too many explanations and you find yourself without the ability to argue back. However, as you grow older, not only to you begin to comprehend the meaning of these clichés, but also begin to understand if not also feel their true meaning…

On the last day of school, she collected signatures from all her schoolmates. Many faces that had barely said a few words to her during the five years they’d studied together, were now expressing their deepest hopes along with their goodbyes. She wanted to leave his signature for last; she was hoping that the going away spirit would affect him into writing something meaningful in her book. Almost her whole grade had signed her book and soon she was going to ask her teachers to leave a few words of advice that would send her on her journey to adulthood. Entering homeroom for the last time, she spied out a girl that hadn’t signed her book yet. Louisa wasn’t exactly one of the friendliest girls, keeping to her gang and never having anything nice to say about anybody. It was in her nature to probably write a critical or negative message but just as our girl reconsidered asking Louisa for a message, Louisa herself grabbed the notebook out her hand rudely remarking that she hadn’t signed it yet. The message Louisa wrote, was neither critical nor negative… it was strong and deep filled with foresight:

“Be careful what you wish for, it just may come true… Louisa.”

Our girl sighed. Even though the words brought chills of warning to her spine, she somehow could not see how ever her wishes and prayers could come true. Today was the last day of school and she’d probably never see him again besides in her dreams. Across the lawn, he stood with his friends organising the final party arrangements. The party she wouldn’t be attending because she wasn’t part of the elite crowd of the school. He caught her eye and they smiled at each other, she knew exactly what he was thinking. He’d had enough of school, he wanted to spread his wings and this was his chance to finally bury his books and face the real world. Taking a deep breath, she summoned all her courage and took her book for him to sign, knowing all too well that he hated these clichéd moments.
“No! Please don’t make me sign this… I hate signing these things! I never know what to say! Okay but just tell me what to write…”
“That’s okay… just sign your name then, just so that one day it will serve as proof that you existed.”
It must’ve been the disappointment on her face that made him change his mind and he stared long and hard at the blue pages before finally putting the pen to the page. He swore under his breath and mumbled something about him already being unforgettable and that he wasn’t signing any more of those things.
The message was neither poetic nor inspiring, but at least it was sincere:

“I simply cannot top what other people have said, so whatever you do, enjoy. G”

After that, it seemed that someone pressed the fast forward button on the remote control and things began moving really fast. Our heroine found a job a month or so after graduation and a few short months later, she’d saved up enough money to buy herself a plane ticket to another country. Through all of this, she’d tried her best to keep contact with the most of her friends but like most of us… one by one, they began to disappear.

But not him. Not her high school sweetheart. He didn’t change his phone number or his address and each time she pressed the dial, he picked up the phone. They didn’t speak often, or for very long but with time… they began unravelling the secrets they kept in high school. What once seemed unfathomable to reveal, can seem pretty harmless with time and distance. Things became crystal clear after sharing thoughts and intentions and often they laughed at each other’s past behaviour. Talking to him was like watching an old movie of your life. A reincarnation from another time and era. They shared stories of the past; the present and their hopes for the future and he promised her that one-day he’d come visit her.

Time had turned our wet-behind-the-ears little girl into an independent woman with a demanding career, aspiring goals and the personality to go with it. An e-mail announcing the blast from the past was nothing more than a pleasant surprise. Little children eventually stop believing in the tooth fairy, Father Christmas and the boogieman… teenagers also stop believing in their first love and the only aspect about his visit that made her nervous was that she’d encounter a complete stranger. She’d changed so much; it was only natural that he did too.

Even the tourists stopped to look when two crazy kids hugged each tightly as if they hadn’t seen each other in years… four to be precise. The words flowed naturally and quickly, it seemed like no amount of time would be enough to catch up on everything that happened. Time stood still as if it had never gone by.
Memories… be very careful how you create them, when the time comes, you’ll be reliving them all over again.
The first night stretched into the early hours of the morning with photos and memories being shared. It felt like just yesterday that it had all gone by.
The greatest pride she’d felt is that he finally confessed that all the photos, notes, diaries and memoirs that she’d kept were worth the effort she’d made. Time cannot take the sweetness out of an “I told you so!”.

We regret more the things that we didn’t do or say, than those that we actually did.

While some things change drastically, others will always stay the same. Often when we begin our lives from scratch, we tend to bury the past behind us. Fresh starts involve erasing past memories and if it weren’t for a box of old diaries, there were some that surely would’ve been forgotten by our girl. She sat on sitting room floor and began reading. It wasn’t just any novel, it was her life and as she read, she relived every moment, every smile, every tear, and every emotion. On some pages, she would laugh herself silly. On others, tears ran down her face. It was bittersweet literature; it’s value only known to its author.

I sat with her this morning; he had already left and with him took the colour of her cheeks and the sparkle from her eye. The woman I know suddenly looked like the girl I knew four years ago: Speechless, lost and vulnerable. I ran my hand through her hair while she continued her story.

The two weeks that he spent with her seemed to fly by. In that time, they got to know each other all over again.
“Tell me again, what do you think about me now? A lot has changed huh?”
He still hated questions or talk that involved emotional thinking but this time around she had the courage to put her arms around his waist and her head on his shoulders to keep him from running. Groaning, he knew that he wasn’t going to be able to get out of answering and once again they spent until the early hours of the morning talking about the changes in each other. He seemed more independent but still needing a lot of growing up. She was the one that seemed to have suffered the most change of the two of them. He thought that she was now a woman but that something about her was still the same. He didn’t seem to know how to describe exactly what it was that stayed the same, limiting himself to saying that her eyes were still the same, the soul was still the same and once again he criticised her for giving too much of herself.

Perhaps it was the look that she found in his eyes or the wonderful time that they spent together on an island made for couples… but the kiss was inevitable.

“Be careful what you wish for, it just may come true.” She told me that the moment she kissed him she felt like she was back in high school with the sweaty hands and butterflies in her stomach.
“I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry that God somehow had heard all my prayers in high school. It was all I ever wanted, now I didn’t know what to do with it!”
I began considering asking God for an Audi, a penthouse in Miami and a fat bank account in Switzerland… I certainly didn’t mind waiting four years for my prayers to come true!

“I finally had him in my room, in my bed, his eyes belonged only to me, his kiss was mine to take and things were going to go as far as I wanted them to. The countless prayers, the endless wishes and the many nights of pleading with destiny finally produced its fruits. It would be one hell of a story to tell at my high school reunion! But that much awaited kiss is where everything began and ended.”

That’s it?! That’s where it ends? But why?!!! Why not go all the way? Why not fulfil the prophecy that began in high school? When two people have come so far, it can only be a crime that they don’t give into each other! How is it possible that you let that chance go by?

The woman looked at me beyond her girlish looks and replied:

“People come and go in your life. There are those who only stay a little while and there are those that stay for always. I will love him for always because he was the first. The great love, but not the man of my life. The friendship and respect that we feel for each other helped preserve a love that will never end, never change and never evolve into anything more than it already is. And the day I do find the man of my life, I know he will give me his blessing just as I will give him mine when he finds the girl of his dreams.”

Looking at her, I know that with time she’ll be back on her feet and living and loving just as before. The heart of a woman is so big and complex that it’s capacity to love and survive is incalculable. It has reasons that reason itself cannot explain. More and more, I start to wonder about how much of our lives are really under our control and how much is ruled by fate. Looking up at the skies, I pick a star and make a wish… being just a little more careful of what I wish for.

In your arms.

Last night I dreamt that you were in my bed. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t hide and neither did I want to. My heart beat fast as I lied down next to you and I had to take a deep breath to control my hands that threatened to shake. The pillow was yours on the condition that I could lay my head on your shoulder. This simply couldn’t be real! So many nights dreaming, hoping and praying that you would be by my side, and here you were… in the flesh.
A human ironing board is the description you could give me. Too afraid to move, wanting to move closer but not quite sure how. Eventually I found a spot next to your chest that felt comfortable. My head began spinning just from the scent of you, I so badly wanted to lay my hand on your chest but was afraid you’d pull away. Bliss would be to touch you but rejection would mean torture.
Taking another deep breath I placed my hand on over your chest and awaited a reaction. My heartbeat faster when my hand made contact, the deep breath you took only prolonged the massacring anticipation. But you didn’t pull away and it took my every strength not to let out a sigh of relief.
Not feeling very comfortable, you changed position and left me feeling abandoned once moving your shoulder. I didn’t have the courage to try again so I turned around to try and avoid temptation. But your light breathing on my neck only made my skin burn even more for your touch and I was sure that if our bodies didn’t make contact soon, I was going to cry from frustration.
Further and further I tried prying away, but you came closer and closer… the huge thump of me hitting the floor shouldn’t have been a surprise and I was in two minds on whether perhaps it was a good idea for me to go sleep on the couch. The thought slipped out my mind as quickly as it came in... No way was I abandoning my own bed!!! Oh but the panic! It took all my strength to quieten all the opinions exchanged in my head.
Do you know how peaceful your face is when you’re asleep? How perfect your chin is in the moonlight? I shiver even in the heat of the night whilst getting back into bed with you. I didn’t mean to wake you but your eyes pulled me closer and told me to share the pillow with you. Moving in closer, our noses almost touched and our lips were an unbearable distance away. I couldn’t close my eyes; you were all I wanted to look at. How many nights had I stayed up dreaming of this exact moment? How many wishes upon stars, how many prayers? I didn’t want to close my eyes, I didn’t want the moment to end and your warm breath caressed my senses into sleep.
I awoke feeling you change position, you turned and had your back to me. Moving in even closer, I was left with the choice of either gluing our bodies or falling off the bed again… instead I chose to wrap my arm around you. No way would I be sleeping on that couch, and so I called upon my courage and slipped my arm around your waist and let it lie on your chest.
You drew in a deep breath again, and I held mine waiting to see if you would pull away. I prayed that you couldn’t feel my heart racing on your back as I felt you move, not the surprise I felt when you locked my arm with yours. I begged time to still and make this moment last forever. Your gesture meant that you would not let my arm go, and I wanted to thank you for it.
One last position change took me through until morning. Turning my back, I feared the fire in your touch and neared myself even more to the edge to avoid all contact. I felt empty without you but dared not turning back. My secret prayers were answered when I felt you move in close, the way our bodies fit in one another was beyond my concept and the sensitive skin behind my neck praised the warm caresses from your breath.
This time, I wasn’t going to run, and I didn’t think twice about reaching out behind me and making sure your arm wrapped around me. I traced my hand lightly over your arm. It felt majestic, so incredibly big compared to my own. You drew in your breath but didn’t say a word so I took your hand and traced it over my waist, letting it lie on my stomach right near my diaphragm so that you could feel my every breath taken in.
Nothing had ever felt so right, at that moment the world was perfect and as it should be. I long for a million nights lying beside you but I content myself with at least one night of sleeping on the clouds. Once feeling your touch protecting me, sleep came easy and the morning came way too quickly for someone who was lying in heaven. The last few minutes just before I knew the alarm clock would go off, I placed my hand over yours, hoping you’d understand my need for you not to let go.

Waking up is the hardest part of dreaming; the disappointment of the illusion has the power to break your heart. The sight on my empty bed haunts me now that my mind knows what it must be like to lay with you every night. My body longs your closeness, my skin begs your tenderness and my imagination invents other positions to discover about each other in bed. No matter how much I hug myself, I can’t shake this empty feeling and a cruel truth rings in my ears that only your arms can fill that void.
Sometimes, all a woman needs is to fall asleep in her man’s arms.

Call "it" whatever you want... but for now let's just say...

«GOD give me the serenity to accept the things I can't change,

the courage to change the things I can

and the wisdom to know the difference»

«The serenity prayer»

AA & NA

Biding My Time...

The cool air in my bedroom is a contrast to the rising heat outside. The lights are kept off so that no ounce of heat disturbs the cool atmosphere and the only streaks of light are the patterns on my wall made by the shutters of my window and the lights from the street outside. My bed looks and smells like the perfect bed out of a fabric softener commercial and the only missing element is… sleep, and that fact that I’m not getting any.

Everything and Nothing at all.

The thoughts that go through my mind are reruns of ideas that have already been screened. The problems that I could possibly have aren’t really problems if you consider that a problem is only that to which hasn’t been found a solution. I already have answers to my doubts and solutions to my problems, all I have to do is wait for the right time to make my decisions… and so I wait… and I wait… and time goes by slowly.

Life is once again trying to teach me the lesson I hate learning most… patience. A lesson that is learnt more than once, it seems that just when we think we’ve learnt it, we’re shown that we still lack it. Patience is time’s favourite ally and it teaches us to wait for the things we want, only then can we give them true value.

Aries of a fiery, ambitious and determined nature… there is always a project up my sleeve, an idea to try out… something I need to accomplish. Is there any wonder to how such a person can go mad if you take away all of these things to do? All the battles are won, all the problems are under control and all I have to do is to sit back and watch life turn a page on this stage of my life and begin a new chapter. I feel like a voyager travelling by ship who knows that much will have to be done once arriving at my destination but that until then I’m powerless to begin my tasks. So I stand on deck and look to the horizon, struggling to see any sign of land, of my new beginning. My mind reorganises a million times the things I’ll have to do once I reach port but it cannot advance on any of those things while the ship still sails. Instead, I’m supposed to look at the stars and make the most of my surroundings.

The clever man goes out and searches for his happiness, the wise man grows it under his feet.

There are times when all you really need to do is give life a chance to work things out for itself. Why is it so hard to admit that you’re human and that some things in life are beyond your control? Is it really that hard to trust in fate just a little? Going back to my last adventure in paintball, I recall being the one who simply couldn’t just sit back in the bushes and wait to get found… I’d rather get shot than not participate and play the game. I’d rather risk my life than not live it at all. Am I such an impatient person?

My future awaits three airplanes, a change of career and a change of lifestyle. There will be emotional, professional and physical issues that will have to be dealt with and soon I will be faced with another of life’s unpredictable obstacle courses. Thankful is what I should be for the time of peace given until faced with such an ordeal. So why can’t I just close my eyes and relax until my ship comes in?

Because every moment spent where I’m not fighting for something feels like time wasted… because time is something too precious to be lost on mere breathing and because every moment that I spend alone without you seems pointless. You can be surrounded by a million faces and still feel completely alone; you can win a million battles and feel you’ve gained nothing and you can repeat things to yourself a million times and still not get your heart to listen. If I’m not fighting for something, what is my point in living?

I’m spending my time, wasting my thoughts and counting the days going by. Not every girl is as lucky to have her own apartment, her own freedom and being the boss of herself and whatever goes into her fridge. I enjoy the free time that I have to read my books, write my columns and listen to my music. Yet, all of it feels like the magazine you read before going into an appointment and all this is what I do to spend my time while I wait for you to join me in my adventures.

May the one you hold be the one you want, the one you need, the one that makes you happy and wherever you are, whatever you’re doing… make sure you’re enjoying it, only then will time truly pass you by.

Getting Wet...

There are nights when a girl just doesn’t want to go out. Like the world would be a perfect place when on looked from bed in a big t-shirt. I spent most of the afternoon thinking about things that I couldn’t resolve just yet, and clutching to my stomach swearing at Mother Nature for having made me a girl. Not wanting to disappoint my friends nor waste €10, I made an effort to get dressed for the much awaited night out. The desire to do so was at an all time low, and the best I could manage was to dress in black with red lips and nails to go with that particular time of the month. Inspecting myself in the mirror, I decided that red was definitely a colour I should wear more often.

Male cooked meal…

It’s not everyday that you have a man cooking a gourmet meal for you! The oldest member of our Scandinavian group of friends had decided to experiment in the kitchen and we became his willing guinea pigs. Baked pears stuffed with melted cheese and nuts started off an amazingly delicious meal. Green pasta was covered by an exotic mixture: my taste buds identified: chicken pieces, peanuts, mushrooms, peas, red, green and red peppers and crab sticks. Space simply had to be made for a typical Thai desert. My taste buds delved into the tropical ice cream that was served in a pineapple and contained pineapple and walnut pieces. And just to push pleasure to the limits, the meal ended with another Thai dish, coconut rice covered with Mango pieces and condensed milk. My compliments to chef who continued to dazzle his guests with talk of all the foreign countries he’d visited. I was particularly taken by his story of his pet monkey that he had back in Hong Kong.

Fate gives you a push in the right direction with destiny to help guide you…

Meeting two new members of the Scandinavian group, I discovered that they were both from Finland and had a lot to tell me about the country that destiny seems to be pushing me towards. The things I discovered fed my hunger for change and Fate made sure that I already made contacts for the future. A country serious about it’s business, Finland like most it’s Scandinavian counterparts, is a country with honest people trying to make an honest living. So honest are they that I was informed that men are supposed to be direct with their intentions, it should be nothing unusual for a guy to come up to you and say “I wanna fuck you” - and he should be taken seriously. Listening carefully, I began feeling guilty for not taking one or two approaches are seriously and turning them into a joke. This is why, not knowing a different culture can lead to bad misunderstandings! However, easy sex wasn’t on my agenda and I lead the conversation back to my ambition… my career! Impressed with all I heard, it deeply pleased me to hear that out there only your skills helped you climb the corporate ladder. It isn’t who you know or what family you come from, but what you’re capable of doing. The only two glitches were 1. It’s a damn cold country with temperatures that can drop to –50degrees and 2. The men. (I’ve never really been into blond blue-eyed boys and to add to them being way too easy, Scandinavians have no Ass!). My small Finish friend had no idea the frustration she helped build in my already desperate-to-escape-the-island mind. Before throwing up in the pot plant next to me, she still managed to take my face in her hands and say: “Aww my honey, you in Finland are going to end up a happily married woman” I didn’t know whether to laugh or to puke with her!

Nelly Furtado put on quite a show! We managed to push our way to the front so that we had centre, front row view of the whole stage! Being the official photographer, I mastered the art of photo taking and dancing at the same time… and although some photos didn’t come out that good, most of them looked great! Nelly’s music seeped right into my soul. If it wasn’t bad enough that I had thoughts of the future in my head, memories of the past were brought on by my new Pommy friend from Brighton who was the splitting image of the ex-boyfriend whose tattoo I designed one week before leaving South Africa. I sang along with Nelly and the crowd, the beat was so intense that it felt like it had taken control of my heartbeat. “I’m like a bird” took me back to my best friend’s house in Randhart where I had seen the video for the first time on MTV. “Say what you want” was a description to all my present thoughts. But it was “I try” that threatened tears to my eyes… “And I see you standing there, wanting more from me, and all I can do is try… and you continue standing there, I’m all I’ll ever be, and all I can do is try.” I’d been pushing myself very hard lately and this night out was supposed to be the break from the stress.

Once the fireworks were over and the crowd began dispersing we all met at the local pub for drinks. Photos and jokes were passed around and I began thanking my stars for being alive. Moving on to another club, as the alcohol flowed, tongues and intentions began to loosen and I found myself becoming the promiscuity cop.

Girls just wanna have fun…

Yes they do! I laughed as I watched two of my friends take photos of their asses and breasts in the bathroom. The lucky owner of the camera was sure in for a surprise later on! Kisses and caresses that meant nothing were passed around. A group with cultures varying from Scandinavian to Brazilian and British somehow meshed very well. I carefully declined all the passes made at me but continued to torture onlookers with my flirty dancing. Even when it wasn’t in the clubs, it was to the drums being played on the street, dancing is the closest I came to losing myself in bliss.
Being the promiscuity police isn’t easy, you spend most of your time reminding your friends how much they love their boyfriends knowing they’ll hate you then and only thank you in the morning. While everyone else trades saliva and caresses you end up wishing you were a little less old fashioned but try drowning out the thoughts in the music. This time when I was grabbed, it was my ex-colleague I hadn’t seen in a while. He’d just gotten a girl-with-girl hip show, which resulted on more male attempts which I declined with a smile.
“I see you’re still the amazing woman I know”
“Or incredibly stupid, I’m probably the only one not getting laid tonight”
“We both know you’re worth a whole lot more.”

Some people just have the ability to look at you and see you for who you really are – Thank-You.

Just as you run into people you like, you also run into people you don’t. Not that I didn’t like the other ex-colleague that I ran into but besides being incredibly hairy, he had already been chasing after me since he’s seen me out dancing for the first time. I felt like a ping-pong ball as I was pulled to one side and another by two of my ex-colleagues. The one wanted my beef and the other was trying to protect me from the scavenger. I’ve always said that where you earn your bread, you don’t eat the meat. But although my colleague wasn’t bad looking, it just seemed… pointless.

Let’s get wet!

The music was pumping, the room was full and my body was sweating. Sex was on everybody’s mind and I knew that I was going to fail as the promiscuity police if I didn’t do something quick to cool down the tension… so like most of my insane ideas, it drew at the spur of the moment. At 6am in the morning, just before the sun came up, we all went swimming in our underwear! The water was fantastic and the view incredible! The moon and stars made a reflection like tiny crystals on the water’s surface and I closed my eyes wishing I could share that moment with somebody special.

“I won’t give up on you Sunshine! I’ve been eying you out since we began working for the same company! You will eventually give in to me because I refuse to let go!”

How long did this speech last? Barely a few hours, when I looked over my shoulder, the bobbing of his head told me that he was trying perhaps his first saltwater sexual experience. Annoyed that I had one loss on the faithfulness patrol, I was at least relieved I’d gotten rid of Mr. Insistent and concentrated on splashing around with the two other friends who were enjoying the water as much as I was. We got out of the water just as the sun was rising and for the second time that morning; I thanked God for being alive,

Faithfulness patrol wasn’t a complete failure, I was impressed to see that at least one person was doing his best not to cheat even though temptation was dressed only in her underwear, sitting on his lap and sucking his ear. I believe she went home that morning with her ego extremely low for not making her conquest. I wasn’t that lucky with Mr. I-simply-don’t-give-up, who although was quite aware I’d seen him screw my friend, still insisted on wrapping me with a towel.

Breakfast with a hangover is a good way to start a Sunday morning. Although I’d only had two drinks, I felt drunk from exhaustion and not even food compelled as much as my duvet at that moment. Instead, I fed the pigeons just before joining my friends in singing “Words don’t come easy”… Two professional singers with a shower singer (that’s me!) caused quite a stare early in the morning at the café that applauded once we’d finished in perfect accord. Onto the 9pm show we were giving onlookers and the applause we got simply encouraged us to sing more.

Good, loud music with the windows open and my hand out the window only feels ecstatically good when combined with fast, crazy driving. The corners we cut and the S´s we made on the road only helped pump whatever adrenalin we had left. It seems that once again what started off as a crappy evening proved to be an amazing night out.

“You’re crazy, but you’re not crazy… do you know what I mean? You’re such a good girl, but you’re also not! Am I making any sense?”
Although he wasn’t, I understood what it is he meant to say and I sent him home to go sleep, disappointing him with lack of invitation to my house. It seems like he was “Serious” about not giving up on winning my affections (or female services).

Standing under a hot shower, I began searching for sense to write about in my column. But the best I could come up with is that every night out should end with a swim and every swim with a hot shower! Once again I’ve learnt nothing new. I already know how amazingly wonderful it is to be impulsive and how things seem to turn out for the best when they start off bad. Be it the hormones or the pent up frustration, I rediscovered how difficult it is to resist temptation, how to say “no thanks” and turn your head away from a kiss when all you want to do is grab someone and heavily make out with them. Why suffer such torture?
Besides deserving better, decisions like those come with consequences like “I really regret what I did” from my friend who, besides underwater experience had kissed four guys and one girl (at least under my supervision). I do not criticise her behaviour, I do not praise nor condone it. We’re all free to create our reality as we see fit. However if you plan on being adventures, take conscious decisions… only you become responsible for them and their consequences.

Writing this entry gave my hair enough time to dry a little before I retire to my comfy, sweet smelling bed… I might not have gotten “laid” tonight but only I know the true reward of knowing that I won’t wake up with anyone in my bed or a stranger in my mirror.

The Wedding Song.

This morning when opening my e-mail, I was faced with a challenge. A good friend of mine sent me the lyrics to a song titled “Don’t marry her, fuck me”. Along with these lyrics was a challenge to write a blog on the subject. Frustrated, my answer was simply to reply that I try no to be judgemental and accept people for who they are and the choices they make. However, I reckon that a man who cheats on his wife/girlfriend is a coward who doesn’t have the balls to make a commitment to one woman and will forever be looking over his neighbours fence… if he’s unhappy well tough shit, let him find the courage to grow up and be happy. A woman, who is in a relationship/marriage, knows she’s being cheated on and accepts it, gets the same kind of sympathy from me as the man who’s cheating on her. If you don’t have the courage to get out, move on and be happy, then you’ve only got yourself to blame for the misery. Lastly, as for the third corner of a triangle, I don’t consider these women whores or sluts, I simply think that a woman who is satisfied with only half a man also gets exactly what she wants.

I’ve never known a love story that wasn’t complicated! Yes, there are relationships that don’t work out and marriages that fall apart but for God’s sake! Let the one you hold be the one you want!

There was a corny song playing on the radio this afternoon, the lyrics went something like “Life is so different from your dreams”.

Of course it is! In your dreams you control every action and reaction… in reality, everyone follows their own cue. You can’t control nor predict other peoples feelings and reactions, and there will be times when opinions and plans will clash. But that’s where communication comes in! People then talk and explain their intentions. Understanding then takes place and your discover that love is an eternal feeling! Love isn’t all about getting. It isn’t all about what he/she can do for you… have you ever asked yourself what you can do for him?

I’ve lost count of the relationships that have been saved with the little things in life! I’m not just talking about those surprise handcuffs and whipped cream… I’m talking about calling him up just to tell him you thought of him, maybe surprise him with an ice cream. Kidnap him for a day… plan a picnic… cook him a special dinner… watch of his favourite movies… even a night bowling has magic in it! These aren’t considered sacrifices when you do it with love and an open heart. It’s that tiny kiss in the morning that makes the day start off well, or the smile just before driving off, even the teenager wise enough to give his seat in the bus for his girlfriend is capable of winning her over with such a gesture. Personally I miss having someone to massage, to whisper to and to write columns about.

But this is what this column is really about, the song the wedding singer sang to his woman:

I wanna make you smile, whenever you’re sad

Carry you around when your arthritis is bad,

Oh all I want to do is grow old with you

I’ll get your medicine when your tummy aches,

Build you a fire if the furnace breaks

Oh it could be so nice, growing old with you.

I’ll miss you, kiss you,

Give you my coat when you are cold

Need you, Feed you

And even let you hold the remote control

So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink

Put you to bed when you’ve had too much to drink

Oh I could be the man, to grow old with you.

I want to grow old with you.

There is no conclusion to this entry. Instead, I’ve decided to comment to my own words in a song from my new cd:

Eamon – Fuck, I don’t want you back. (The explicit version)

See I don’t know why I liked you so much,

I gave you all of my trust

I told you, I loved you.

Now that’s all down the drain

You put me through pain

I want you to let you know how I feel:

(Chorus):

Fuck what I said, it don’t mean shit now

Fuck your presents, you might as well throw them out,

Fuck all those kisses, they didn’t mean jack,

Fuck you, you ´ho, I don’t want you back (X2)

You thought, you could keep this shit from me

You burn bitch, I heard the story

You played me, you even gave him head

Now you’re asking for me back

You’re just another hag

Look elsewhere, ´coz you’re done with me

(Chorus)

You question, if I care

You could ask anyone,

I even said you were my great one

Now it’s over, but I do mean it upset

It hurts real bad I can’t take swear it back

because I loved that ho

(Chorus) until fade.

Bitter? Nah… it’s just the song playing in my head. Besides, it’s not what he’s saying that touches me, but the way he says it. The question really lies in: What will you be singing at your wedding? Or better yet… what is the song being played in your relationship at this moment? Are you still drugged on a Celine Dion melody or lately have you caught yourself humming “I want to break free”. Perhaps you need to change the music channel. Hopefully we’ll all be more careful with the music we choose to listen to in future.

Let Go.

I cannot fully express the importance of letting go of yourself in a world that demands complete control of your actions and reactions. Although I’ve already written about a night out with the girls, I simply cannot let this go unwritten.

Responsibility is what makes us think twice about our words and actions. The modern career demands professionalism and some of us probably end answering our private phonecalls unawares with “Hello, Sunshine speaking, how may I help you?”. This is a systematic disease that infiltrates our brains forcing our personalities to behave in the perimeters that are acceptable and expected from society. As much as I would love to turn up the radio and dance on my desk when my favourite song comes on, I bet that such behaviour would result in my immediate dismissal, or worse… incarceration to the nearest loony bin!

However, ever just so often… it is necessary to take the foot off the brakes and let go.

Tension, it builds up on your shoulders, stiffens your neck and pulls at your tendons. Daily stress is unavoidable and a condition that simply cannot be rid of permanently. How you get rid of it, depends entirely up to you. Yoga, gym, jogging, meditation, massages… the treatments are endless and although I find that music and a good shower works for me, I’ve also discovered that after a while these methods become useless if I don’t let go!

The white uniform party.

Whilst desperately trying to calculate the credit that needed to be applied to my client’s billing, I was rudely interrupted with a note put in front of my nose. And this? Two tickets for Friday night’s white uniform party at Copacabana. Rolling my eyes, I thought of all the sleep I could be catching up on instead of joining my colleagues at a party wearing a colour that makes me look three times larger than I already am! Financially, this was probably something I could avoid, however I’m not sure if it was the insistent whining, the voice within or Usher on the radio that made me change my mind and by the end of the day I convinced my mate to come with me.

Wardrobe was made easier since I only had one colour to choose from… although I still required my friend to help me rummage through my cupboard. After a couple of changes of attire, we eventually agreed on the right top and all that was missing was to put on my shoes. I’ve come to realise in my life that there are two ways to cure a woman’s spirit… let her hibernate in her pyjamas or let her dress to kill. Any woman will agree with me, when I say that there’s nothing like wearing a new pair of pants to boost your ego.

And Now?

Living on a small island, you can count on running into people that you know. If it isn’t your neighbour than it’s your schoolmate or work colleague. Running into my group of colleagues and their friends wasn’t surprising and you don’t know whether to feel good or frustrated that walking across the room involves greeting a dozen faces that you know. Having quite enough of groups and gangs, my mate and I decided not to dance in any of them and danced in our space, our way. Opening the dance floor, I knew that my “courage” would be Monday’s topic of conversation. It would probably last all the way until lunch and who knows, if nothing else juicy happened during the weekend, it could last until midweek. Aren’t I lucky that my personal policy means I don’t worry about what other people think? If I did, I would not be able to do what I had gone to do…

To let go…

No need of alcohol, no drugs, no psychological preparation… When you hear the music and let it seep into yourself, you almost immediately fall into a natural high. The beat sets your heart’s pace, the rhythm takes over your soul and your body responds to every note in the song. Blocking the gazers, watchers and observers around me, I concentrated on the music and felt the tension leaving my body.

Show me how you dance and I’ll tell you, your capacity to let go…

When eventually two of my colleagues came to join us, they brought some of their friends with them who were more than interested in dancing to our moves. At one stage I counted nine guys and on one particular song, we looked like a groupie with them copying all our moves. I silently wondered how many of them were married or had girlfriend waiting for them back home. Those that I knew behaved themselves and as the evening wore on, one of them became our bodyguard to help keep the more alcoholically influenced in their places. Gone are the days where telling a guy your have a boyfriend put him off. No matter how many times I insisted, there was one particularly persistent boy who simply would not take no for an answer. Trying not to be rude, I still got taken in for a dance but venturing hands drove me to having to be more direct. I truly wonder what the confessed girlfriend would say to him asking me for my number and inviting me out to coffee. Another guy’s phone number we left under the windscreen of a car on our way out. You could call it heartless, but I call it saving time. You don’t waste his time and he doesn’t waste yours on finding out there the road leads to nowhere. How do I know he wasn’t my soul mate? Well, let’s just say my man knows better than to approach me that way.

A shower and change of clothes later, sleep is finally kicking in. Today’s plans involve going to the beach and catching some rays. Swimming and tanning are the in the doctor’s prescription and by Sunday there’s not a doubt in my mind that stress is a forgotten illness (at least until Monday). Yet, a whole weak of going to the beach could not relieve that one night of singing and dancing can do my soul.

To prevent madness… one requires letting go, every now and again.

The Big Leap Of Faith

USA or UK?

Actually, I’ve been thinking a lot about Canada and about a week ago someone suggested Germany, after an intensive search I also discovered that the “forgotten” continent Australia also has a lot to offer in terms of technology advances in my field.

These are the thoughts that have been going through my head through the last two months. Needless to say, living on an island is very limiting. What bothers me isn’t so much the lack of choices - adapting is practically my middle name. Limiting is the mentalities that I come across. This doesn’t mean I haven’t met intelligent, cultural and extremely interesting people; this means that the general mentality itself creates day-to-day obstacles. There’s an old saying that goes “If you can’t beat them, join them”. On an island where gossip is second nature and success depends more on who you know rather than what you’re capable of, the general mentality leaves a lot to be desired. Fighting this mentality becomes tedious and exhausting and considering that I have no wish to become a part of it, this leaves me the only choice of leaving. Now that I’ve realised I what I want to do, the question becomes… where to?

It took me five minutes to make the decision that I want to leave, but it will take me between five to seven months to make the move. I have no idea where I will go, but I know that I will know when the time comes, until then I prepare the terrain.

USA? UK? Canada? Australia? Hell why not Cuba, I always wanted to perfect the salsa and meringue!

These where the thoughts that sat on my shoulder, tensing every tendon that exists in my neck. The beach is one of the most relaxing places to go when one wants to unwind and here I was contemplating an uncertain future! I know what I want out of life, I just don’t know which route to choose on getting there! I lay on my towel and closed my eyes, hoping that the answers would come to me or that I could at least stop thinking long enough to relax! Around me, the visual assault just helped to muddle my thoughts even more. There were couples spread all over; some were conversing, others simply soaking the sun but almost all of them were sending each other secret love messages that only the other person could understand. Next to us was a lady under an umbrella with a giggling little baby in her arms, the gurgling sounds it made kept me smiling until my attention was caught my a woman who obviously took her career very seriously. She paced from one side of the pool to the other talking into thin air while she listened from the earpiece attached to the latest Nokia cell phone.

Timing is everything; and my friend had it spot on when she suggested we go for a swim. Before my thoughts caused smoke to come out my ears, I decided to put out the fire being created in my brain with a swim in the ocean. Without much thought, I jumped in and allowed the waves to welcome me.

The ocean!

Powerful and majestic, it feeds and protects the underwater life that flourishes in its depths. It guides those whom wish to travel upon it and connects every continent on this planet. The vastest natural resource, perhaps the oldest, the ocean commands and demands respect. Just as its waters can be calm and soothing, they also become angry and unmerciful.
Mother Ocean enveloped me in her waves and I allowed every thought to leave my head as the waves taught my body how to move freely and without restraint. As I awaited my friend to jump in behind me, I swam to the floating blocks that people could rest upon and waited for her looking onto the horizon. Many times when I wanted to run or escape I would look so deep into the horizon that I could swear I could almost see land somewhere far out of focus. But which land? What did I see in that horizon, where was the ocean going to take me? Why couldn’t I simply close my eyes and only open them again when I reached a different shore? I would’ve continued the dead man’s lie if it didn’t occur to me that my friend was taking too long to join me. Looking back I realised that she was still on the rocks… waiting to find the courage to jump.

Jump! Just jump! I edged her on for a good fifteen minutes until I realised that she wasn’t listening to a word I was saying and that if she were going to jump, it would have to be on her own. Jumping from right next to her didn’t do much convincing either, so I took a deep breath and took my second jump from a diving board hoping that it would give her the courage to jump from where she was. Heights and I have never been good friends but I’ve always been one to try and do the things that I’m most afraid of. When I came up for air from my third jump, the sight of the highest diving board left a dare in the back of my mind.

Looking down from a really high diving board is not recommended to someone who actually intends on jumping! Your vision becomes blurry, your knees become weak and the air becomes much cooler around you. Looking down, you see the ocean churning and the breeze that suddenly becomes a wind, entices you to fall right in. Panic runs through as you try to remember why the hell you decided to climb up there in the first place! With nothing to prove and the only person daring me was myself, I still had a chance to turn back while there was no one behind me to force me to jump. Muddled thoughts of all the current challenges in my life made my heart race even more, and I was two steps on turning back… until I remembered that I’m not a quitter. Breathing deep, I remembered all the relaxing ways of clearing my mind that I learnt from yoga classes. Suddenly I thought no more and it seemed just natural to lean forward and let go… the fall seems to be an eternal moment, and when finally you’re swallowed by the ocean, it pulls you down forcing you struggle to come up again. Finally managing to come up, I gasped to breathe again, opened my eyes, looked up and realised… I did it! I jumped!

If I did it once I could do it again and the second time although scary… was much easier than the first but I managed to jump anyway.

USA? UK? Canada? Australia? Brazil?

I don’t know, the wind hasn’t blown me there yet. However, the tension left my neck for good when I jumped Lido’s highest diving board. Success is doing the things we think we can’t. When you’re ready, your instincts will take you to the diving board and then it’s left up to you to take the leap of faith.

I’ve got mail

“Life has a funny way of creeping up on you when you think everything’s okay and everything’s going right; and life has a funny way of helping you out when think everything’s gone and everything blows up in your face” Ironic – Allanis Morissette

Once again my life and emotions were under my complete control. My manager’s vacation had put a pause on my career’s frustrations; my mother’s good behaviour released some of the pent up tension and I was finally beginning to pay the deserved attention to my little brother and my friends. For over two weeks I’ve been looking over my shoulder, expecting something to go wrong and just as I let my guard down… I get mail!

“He commented on almost all my entries, you’ll recognise his opinions as the longest ones posted… we’ve been chatting a lot lately, I know you’ll just love to meet him”
Oh yeah! Here we go again! Another wise ass internet surfer who knows how to copy-paste good writing from the books on Amazon and spends his time “rescuing” the women who spend their time on the Internet because they have no one else to spend their time with…
No thanks! One xciting adventure is enough in a girl’s lifetime! I especially don’t like making the same mistake twice. But being as stubborn as my good friend is, it didn’t surprise me that I got mail from you. What did surprise me though, is what kept me from replying a quick “hi, hello, I’m busy, thanks for writing, but my friend has probably more time for you than I do”.
Inbox:
Sent: lksbdklijdhs kdvs
Oh great! Another virus! How is that I receive one of these at least twice a day?
With a devilish grin, it occurred to me that a virus might just be the solution to the mountain of paperwork that needed filing. But I shook that idea when I realised that the work that required a functioning computer was of a much higher priority. It was the subject line that kept me from pressing the delete button: Hello Sunshine.
You described yourself as someone who had no shame in sending a stranger an e-mail two pages long as an introductory. The fact that you’d written to me listening to an old but really great song intrigued me. However, it was when you began referring to my column that my attention focused completely on your words.
When there are few of them, you find it hard to believe that they exist… emotionally intelligent people! The kind that you pray will cross your path and share opinions and ideas with you. It isn’t bad enough that there are so few of these men, but most of them are just bags of hot air. They repeat the words that they know will obtain the desired results from the person they’re trying to convince, of emotions they wish they could feel but haven’t the courage to assume. Most intelligent men don’t have the courage of their convictions and this was one of the insinuations I sent you on reply.
Expecting fierce denial or perhaps a whole analyses declaring that I was anti-male and needed to trust more in people; you took me once again by surprise when you thanked me for not generalising and giving you the benefit of the doubt.
Impressed couldn’t describe how you left me with the reply mail you sent me. The careful attention you had obviously given to reading the entries my friend and I and wrote and the compliments you paid us would without a doubt make you the highest paid tutor if men around the world knew that you found the secret to understanding a woman. You managed to discover more about me from a couple of e-mails than some of my closest friends who still have a lot to learn about what makes me tick. Leaving me feeling emotionally violated, I couldn’t help but make it quite clear than neither my friend nor I needed any “rescuing” and concluded that focusing on emotional soft spots was your battle technique. But as if you’d read my mind, you quickly explained that defenceless females were far from the picture you painted of us and the mere idea was exhausting and unattractive.

I couldn’t hide my smile after hearing your voice and admitting that curiosity got the better of me, I ignored my better judgement and added you on my MSN. The planned 15 minutes extended to two hours and probably would’ve extended longer if the both of us didn’t have to leave. Your picture couldn’t hide the piercing eyes I knew you’d have. Cautiousness reminded me that I could already place a face and a voice to your name. Intuition told me that you probably would become another of those good friends that I could always be direct and sincere with. On a second window I updated my best friend on the last three days:
“I met my twin! He thinks just like me… is there something you and mom want to tell me?”
“LOL, don’t look at me! But maybe you should ask your mother!”
“Hahahaha… very funny Dad! But seriously, it’s refreshing to exchange ideas with someone who’s on the same wavelength. Or at least he seems to be, so far there’s no ancestry link to Casanova or xcyte. I’m having a really hard time trying to find a reason to log off and block his address.
“I give him another 5 minutes”
“LOL, thanks Dad, but I sense this one will take a bit longer to disappoint me”
“In that case, tell me about it in about two or three weeks.”

Experience reassured my abilities on keeping you behind the screen and so I switched off the computer content that I’d made another amazing addition to my list of special friends. I didn’t think about you again until after I watered my aunt’s plants and sat down to dinner. Wrapping my legs beneath me, I picked at my food with one hand whilst I held the 5-page story you mailed me in the other. Promising to send you my honest opinion, I read it with my full concentration. My hand began to shake before I got through the first page. The story seemed to have been stolen from one of my many daydreams; the words you used were identical to my vocabulary and if it had been written in English, I would’ve sworn that it had been something that I wrote.
The description, the emotions, the vocabulary and even the style called out to me. Before I’d even turned the page, I dropped the pages, stood up and circled the table like someone who had lost her mind, never taking my eyes off the black ink. Insane! If every book had this reaction on me, I would need therapy each time I bought a new one! Summoning the courage and slapping myself out the trance, I began reading more of the text. Instinctually one hand covered my mouth whilst the other ran through the paragraphs. I tried not to feel ashamed when a tear rolled down my face. Everything and nothing made sense once I got to the end of the story. Shock was followed by panic and I couldn’t resist finding out how much of the truth was in that story.

“So where were you until this hour”
“Take a wild guess”
“On the pier again huh? You know you really shouldn’t be out there until this hour on your own!”
“There were plenty of tourists sitting at the coffee shops! Besides I wasn’t alone, I was talking to the ocean. The onlookers either thought I was crazy or I was in with the latest in blue tooth wireless phone technology”
“Hahaha, you must’ve had a lot on your mind then!”
“Yes I did, I met someone captivated my attention and got me thinking”
“Seriously? Is there finally someone who stands a chance with you?”
“Hahaha… nope, lives too far away and met him over the Internet. But if destiny is kind, I’ll probably have a great friend for life”
“You sure? Planes and cars make the world small these days”
“I’m certain. Things only go as far as people allow them to.”

When you least expect it, the winds of fate introduce you to people who renovate your ideas and change your life. My job flew in a cowboy, which made me dance with a Chronis, who inspired a Clairvoyant to send me mail. Before I fall asleep tonight, I will thank my guardian angels for my family, my friends and all the special people who have crossed my path. I take this opportunity to remind my readers that the Olympics would be pointless if no one was watching and cheering the Athletes on. Although I overcame life’s obstacles on my own, there was always a friend on the sideline with a redbull, giving me my wings when I thought that I was no longer able to get over another hurdle. Consider this my thanks for the advice, the hand or the shoulder offered; may this column do the same for you. And to those of you who still haven’t understood this entry, please go check your mail.

Jaime...

Whilst sitting at an outside coffee shop with a huge helium balloon at my back and an amazing ocean view, I stared at the girl-shaped sandcastle and drew conclusions from the conversation I was having. My good friend was telling me that when she returned to her home country on vacation, one of her plans was on having a mature conversation with her ex-boyfriend. My heart broke for her when I remembered a similar desire I’d had years ago with an ex-boyfriend and that had ended bitterly simply because he could not add to anything I already new. He simply had no answer for me. I tried to warn her that sometimes people don’t have the answers we need; we can’t expect from other people what they’re not able to give. It’s not that I doubt that she’ll obtain her answers, it’s that I know that they don’t always come from where we’re expecting them to come.

On going home, I asked deeply analysed this desire. Lately, I’ve found myself feeling slightly nervous about-facing some of the faces I haven’t seen in almost three years and somehow I knew that this desire was linked with my friend’s. Answers aren’t exactly what I’m fearing and although I argued that three years has turned me into a different person, it isn’t that person that I’m afraid of introducing to my friends. If anything, I’m proud to show them who I’ve become… the same Sunshine with improvements! It wasn’t until I saw him that it finally hit me…

Being an Indigo, not only am I stubborn and headstrong, I’m also in fine-tune with myself. This means that I usually know exactly what I want and how I want it and from early on in life I knew what my life’s mission was. I was born to make people happy. My mission is bring something positive to every person I meet. Although it sounds impossible, I would like to die knowing that people remember me with a genuine smile. My little brother calls me his angel for fixing his computer, but I’d like to be considered to be everybody’s angel, even if just for a moment in their lives when I gave them a hand, my shoulder or sincere advice.

I began thinking that I’d failed my mission whilst discussing online the end of a friendship that had barely begun. The friend I was typing to, insisted that the person in question certainly missed the companionship we once shared. Actions speaking louder than words, I thanked her attempts to make me feel better about the matter, but deep down knew that my name would be just a whisper at the back of his mind and my face a bleak memory of a time when he just needed someone to share a coffee with. It saddened me to think that many times in life, we don’t mean half as much to a person as they mean to us. I began recalling all the names of the people who meant something to me and questioned with each one of them if I’d meant the same to them. The old neighbour next door who gave me apricots whenever I went to visit him and his dog Shaka, or my best friend in South Africa who I always considered to be the sister I never had but never writes me an e-mail or sends me an SMS. More and more names ran through my mind and I wondered if maybe I don’t “over”care about people. When I think someone is fantastic do they respond with “she’s nice?”. Do I simply feel too much or am I too demanding in wanting people to care as much about me as I do about them?

We all get those e-mails that say that at least one person on this planet really loves us and is thinking about us that second and would die for us… I got on the bus wondering if I was the exception to the rule. As I walked home from the bus stop, I began believing that T.S Eliot was closer to the truth when he said that we are all imprisoned to solitary confinement within our own skins, and began wondering if we’re really capable of touching each other’s souls. Just as I began asking myself about the hearts that I’d left an impression on, he appeared as if summoned…

On the glorious night that Portugal beat England in the worlds best played soccer game, Madeira Island celebrated in unison and I went home early. In the entrance to my apartment, a large dog surprised me with a jump. The owner clearly distressed immediately grabbed back and repeatedly told me that he didn’t bite. From the complaints of scared neighbours of mine that had described the dog at the last apartment meetings, I concluded that this was the big dog that had scared the old lady in Block A who on seeing the him, dropped all her groceries and ran down the stairs into the garages. Having two massive Labradors back home, “Dog” (yes that’s his name), didn’t scare me and the owner couldn’t believe that I simply grabbed the dogs face and started petting him. I congratulated him on his furry friend and told him about the two I’d left back home. I couldn’t resist accepting his invitation and joined him in taking Dog for a walk. Whilst Dog took the both of us for a walk, conversation swayed from the soccer game to dogs, the weather, music and eventually conversation became more focused on each other.

There are people that you acquaint with for years, but never become someone you could consider as “special”. Then there are people that become a priceless memory within minutes of meeting them. That night I sat together with a stranger and a dog until four in the morning talking about each other. We swapped the scarves the each of us wore and only ended our conversation because both of us had work the next day. Although we did not exchange phone numbers we both expressed the will to see each other once more even though it would have to be the work of fate for our paths to cross once again considering he was walking Dog for a friend on vacation. Being married to a jealous wife, I was asked to feign recognising him, should we ever see each other on the street and even though I live on an island, I wasn’t expecting to ever run into him again.

I ran into him last week after an unpleasant visit to the bank. I ran into the nearest coffee shop and asked for a quick sandwich. Distracted as I am, it’s a surprise when I actually notice someone I know walk by me so it was amazing that I recognised the face that walked out the coffee place as the face that introduced me to Dog. Remembering his request I walked past and winked thinking that he’d probably not remember my face after almost two months since our encounter. The expression on his face was priceless: from the doubtful look, to the registering on his face and then to a smile that stretched from ear to ear. I knew that he recognised me for sure and although he couldn’t greet me whilst surrounded by his friends, I knew that his attention span belonged solely to me as I ate my lunch.

“It’s you! I can’t believe it’s you! I’m so happy it’s you! Do you have any idea how much I wanted it to be you!”. I tried to put my thoughts in order whilst being tightly hugged. It seemed my guardian angel had heard the doubts in my heart and had placed the right person in my path to give me some answers. I listened as he spilled his heart in a speech that had obviously been repeated in his mind many times in the last two months. “You gave me so much to think about that night we met… you made such a big change in my life… gave me the courage… encouraged me to believe in myself… do you realise how much you mean to me?…” I stared opened-mouthed listening to the things I’d always wanted someone to say to me. Like any other human being, it is very important to me to know what I mean or meant to someone else and we always hope for a positive and meaningful answer. I can’t say that I did or said anything out of the ordinary that night that I met him to have him feel the way he does and it amazed me that just as I’d touched his life that night, he touched mine by sharing that knowledge with me. It occurred me that we often make the mistake of thinking that another person knows how we feel about them without us telling them, and only by telling them do we truly connect to their souls. For those who are curious, I didn’t give him my number and we might not cross paths again but I kept my only promise I made to him when we met… he asked me not to forget his name.

16 Going on 23

There are mornings that I fall out of bed and wake up in a panic. I’m late for school, the test is today and I overslept; I didn’t study as much as I should’ve; I can’t remember where I left my fluffy hair band and I better hurry if I want to get to class on time to score a seat next to the gorgeous stud I’ve been eyeing for the last two years. My eyes blink insistently until I focus the unfamiliar walls and only then does my mind register… I passed the exam; the guy I thought was a babe turned out to be nothing special; I stopped wearing those kind of hair bands over four years ago and the only thing I’ll be late for if I don’t pick myself off the floor will be the job I’d been dreaming whilst writing that exam.

Who the hell pressed the fast forward button?

Here I am, the woman I hoped I’d be when I was younger. Confident, witty and sharp-tongued. Not only do I have a career with a future but I also have my own apartment, a self-chosen wardrobe and the independence to go with it. Whilst the rest of the world analysed, compared and criticised me, shaping me into the person they wanted me to be… I dreamt of being old enough to stand up for myself and simply be myself… I wanted to be a bitch and today I proudly am a:

Babe
In
Total
Control of
Herself

The first night I entered a club, my best friend and I hid behind my mother hoping that no one would notice that we were underage. After my mother had left, we relied on two shots of Sambuca (liquorice flavour, for any of you wondering) just to find the courage to take our jackets off. Once the alcohol eventually kicked in, we worked up the courage to get on the dance floor. We danced, we sang, we had an amazing time and when clock hit three we called my dad to come pick us up. Arriving to cold pizza and sprite, we ended up talking ourselves to sleep with 5fm playing in the background. Back then; our dreams were of being successful career women, confident and independent with cars, a sexy wardrobe and every guy drooling over us. We would have time and money to go out every night and live our lives to the fullest. Things would be different as soon as we had control of our own lives.

“Be careful what you wish for… it just might come true”

These were the words written in my yearbook by my classmate Louisa. I can’t remember her surname anymore, but I’ll never forget her face as she said those words to me. I’ve never forgotten them, especially since I’ve discovered that most of the things you want out of life, don’t really make you as happy as you thought they would. Confident career girl, I am the woman I always dreamed of becoming. Independent and self-supportive; I am capable of making a success of any project I set my mind to and it’s been a long time since my throat hurt from not being able to express myself with words. I learnt to relate to different kinds of people and discovered the fun in flirting. I pay my own bills, wear what I choose and get to put whatever I choose into my shopping trolley… I am responsible for myself… responsibility… the high price you pay for independence.

I’m not a girl… not yet a woman.

Time will pass and things will change but no matter how much I evolve, a part of me will never grow up. At times I feel like anytime soon the alarm clock will ring and I’ll be waking up in my room, finding out that all of this is just another one of my impossible dreams. Living in my apartment at times feels like I’m playing house like I used to with my childhood friend Stacey in my back yard. The last time I saw her, she had turned gothic and had a boyfriend that resembled Count Dracula on Speed. There are mornings that I look at my desk, my computer and my phone ringing and feel like I’m just fooling myself and everyone else around me into believing that I’m capable of the responsible career I’m building, Beneath the make-up, the uniform and the high heels is just a girl and at times I feel like the only person who can see her is my boss who still treats me as a little girl.

Insecure? No… not really. If need be, the strong Arian woman in me comes out and takes control. However, more often than not… I feel the need to drop the “mask” and be my childish, happy self. I can now stick my hand out the car window without having my parents reprimand me. When I’m at the office alone, I put the music on loud and spin around on my chair. I can have ice-cream whenever I feel like it, watch TV until I fall asleep on the couch and paint my nails in whatever tone I choose. I jump, I climb, I skate and I pull my tongue at little kids in the bus. Has anyone noticed this little girl pretending to be an adult? Do any of the other people my age feel the same way? Perhaps the reason that a friend of mine goes for older women is that he wants to feel like a the rebellious guy that gets lucky the way other boys only dream of. Some friends of mine have forgotten their childhood completely, refusing to wear anything else but a suit and tie and others are eternally stuck in puberty where their objective in life is to drink and get laid.

Stuck somewhere in-between.

I’m fortunate to say that I’ve evolved a lot in merely a year of my life. Looking even further back, I’d say that I’m nowhere close to the girl I was and much closer to the woman I’ve always dreamed of being. Close but not quite there yet, I still have moments of fear and insecurity. Being loud and social, no one would guess that the girl who is able to begin a conversation with anyone in the street still feels butterflies when a man looks her deeps in the eyes, blushes and feels shy around someone she’s interested and feels nervous about hitting second base. Many people rely on me for support and advice and I wonder if they realise that the reason I give such good advice is because I still think like a kid. Possessing the maturity of many reincarnations, I discovered that the secret of preserving your spirit, is never allowing the child within to die. I still call daddy for advice, sleep in a t-shirt and fall asleep holding on to my pillow. Once I finish saving this column, I think I’ll have a glass of milk, sing to my hairbrush my favourite Backstreet Boys song; jump on my bed and pretend it’s my stage pretend that my audience consists of an ocean of fans that love my new album. I’ll snuggle in bed and thank God for being so lucky in getting this far and for succeeding in being so happy. My last thought before falling asleep will be that this girl is in no hurry to grow up.

Baby Talk

They say that having a child fall asleep in your arms is the deepest calm that a human being can feel. They’re usually right about these things.

Kayla is the most recent addition to my friend list, she also happens to be the youngest. At almost one week old, she has captivated everyone that lays eyes on her. It’s impossible to stay indifferent around her and the only worry you might have is how on earth to hold her! Being as tiny and fragile as she is, you end up doubting your grip and become afraid of dropping her. But once you have her in your arms… it’s a whole different kind of feeling.

A colleague of mine who was a young mother at 17 told me that newborn babies aren’t very exciting and that you can’t call them cute until they’re about six months or so. Mother and baby links are things that are built with time and she explained to me that it would take a while for the two to get used to each other.

Frankly, I think it’s been too long since she last had a baby!

I’ve never seen my buddy have such a knack for anything or anyone like she has with Kayla. Honestly! She has a special way of holding and looking at her that it seems like the two have known each other for ages (not counting the nine months they were stuck together). I’m beginning to believe that the bond begins at conception and that link only grows stronger with time. Even animals grow links from the beginning; I believe it’s called maternal instinct. As for the love, I’m not sure where it got a start but it sure is there in her eyes when she looks down at baby.

So she probably will grow up into a stunner and there isn’t a doubt in my mind that she’s going to grow up into a good-looking, bubbly toddler, but once again I think my colleague has a bad conception of cute… Kayla is right down adorable! Sure she might not be able to giggle or respond yet but if you’re patient, you will catch a smile in between all the faces she makes at you… looking at her becomes incredibly addictive!

Before holding her, I tried to imagine myself as a pregnant mum-to-be… the thought scared me so much that I was glad that it was my friend who had to wake up in the middle of the night for breastfeeding and not me. I reminded myself of the wonderful freedom that I have, being able to go anywhere I please at whatever time and take only fifteen minutes to get ready to go. My career also reminded me of the extra time and effort that I wouldn’t be able to put in if I suddenly had a family to maintain. I silently thanked God once again for my independence and my heart broke for the friend who would no longer suggest Daim Mcflurry´s. I didn’t have the heart to tell her, but I sure miss the free time we spent together walking around together.

A radical change is what turned my friend into a mommy. Not mentioning the obvious changes, the ones that are more invisible to the eye have to do with the way she carries herself, her interests and her maturity. I stopped feeling sorry for her when I realised the good that motherhood does for her. Gone is the insecure girl I knew and in her place is a woman with a strong sense of duty and responsibility. Being calmer has contributed to her deeper maturity and her eyes seem to hold all the answers to life’s questions. The change is uncanny and yet she’s still the same person simply living a new chapter in her life.

The only opinion that I agreed on with my colleague about babies is that they bring out a maternal instinct from you whether you like it or not. Just when you’re telling yourself “Hell no, I’m not made for this”. A miracle like Kayla is put in your arms and suddenly you begin to rethink the whole pregnancy thing and actually consider going through the torture of labour. It isn’t an immediate feeling; it’s something that begins to infect your senses slowly. First it’s that baby odour that permeates into your nostrils. Then the feeling of that tiny warm body wriggling in your embrace. The faces she makes slam down any walls you can possibly build around your heart and you’re as good as caught when you see something resembling a smile.

Having a little brother at eleven, made burping Kayla something of a refresh of memory for me and putting her to sleep was no novelty (nor a challenge considering it was mostly what she wanted to do!). But what I wasn’t expecting was to fight back this amazingly strong desire to have a baby myself. Of course this did not make me want to go out and grab the first fertile male I saw, but it sure left me with an empty feeling in my heart. I guess would be easier if I could imagine a baby as something I could plan into my future with someone. But being single means that you imagine pregnancy as being more of a nightmare than the actual miracle that it is.

My colleague has said that if you wait for the right conditions you will never have a child. I suppose I partially agree with her especially if we’re looking at things from a financial point of view… no one has ever said that they’re financially secure… at least not anyone earning my salary! But to me, basic needs require something more important that money… Love. Little Kayla taught me a lesson quite early in her young life; today I realised that the reason babies and pregnancy scare me so much is because I’m not willing to deal with one on my own. I’m not saying I couldn’t cope, being as independent as I am and having the great friends that I do, I’m sure both baby and mother would survive just fine. However, a mother needs and wants more for her baby. She wants a secure and loving home and the promise of a happy life, the kind that takes two to build. Perhaps if there were someone special that I could imagine a future with, I’d feel better about the whole idea. An ocean away I remembered an unborn baby whose father plans on being present for his/her birth and most of her life but won’t be ending his evenings with his/her mother. I have always been of a very strong opinion that a baby isn’t a good enough reason to keep two people together but I can’t help but feel sorry for a woman who won’t have her man to kiss her forehead after the baby’s just fallen asleep in her arms. This shows me of the importance of finding the right person and once again I’m inclined to believe that Kayla is one of the first of many of my friends babies that are born whilst I age single.

Ambition holds me to my career. The love of life and freedom holds me to my independence but I cannot deny that my female instincts makes a part of me willing to sacrifice all of that for a little bundle of joy. I suppose it’s all about priorities and a sacrifice that demands immense responsibility, the kind that turns your life. It’s bad enough that you have to dodge life’s curveballs; you end up responsible for helping someone else over their obstacles too. That personality will depend a lot on the influence you represent. Looking at Kayla, my biggest wish is that life will be kind to her and her obstacles few. Looking at Kayla’s mommy, admiration mixed with instinctive relief tells me Kayla will always be one very loved and happy baby.