Red red wine

I woke up feeling very pleased with myself. It's a holiday and I managed to get out of bed by 8am. But I'm not at my best when I wake up. I just don't know how moved the wine case, and out tumbled two whole bottles, good bottles of vintage wine. The thing is when they're on the floor they make as much mess as mediocre red wine. I just looked in horror at the bleeding looking floor at first, I just couldn't believe it, not just when the maid has been. Well only one thing to it, my plan of reading something and having a quiet coffee lost in space, I had to scoop up the whole thing, which isn't easy when you're trying not to cut yourself in the process. Because glass is glass whether it's vintage or not. I cut myself only once, and that is good in the cutting myself stakes. I actually thought the floor looked cool, maybe I should get some blood red tiles in, that should make the house look like a towering inferno, there's enough red as it is. It also would be a perfect shade of nail polish, call it something like wine all over the kitchen floor shade. And the perfect colour of red shoe pumps, or lipstick. Actually the perfect red for everything except for wine which has to be cleared up.

It's not almost 11 in the morning, and I've painted my nails this demure Dulche de Leche in contrast. I'll be busy all afternoon, which is not a good thing seeing I'm sleepy already. It's always happening when I've something in the afternoon, but never happened when I'm free to sleep. Well it's how life is, one series of contradictions, except for the always staple red red wine.

Of Wallflowers

Another engagement party on the calendar, and that evokes trepidation. Who the hell thought parties was a great way to celebrate in the first place? I hate parties, it's when you smile at your fourth cousin in law and have no idea who he is. It's also when you get x-rayed as to your adornments. No problem about that. But it's also when you get quizzed about your private life, and asked how the flower girl at a ten years' earlier wedding beat you to the altar. Please leave me alone, the altar is not really my piece of cake. And although I dutifully show up at these things, well please uninvite me. I won't take that to heart, I'll actually be a happier me. I am too old for this, at 33 everyone will be madly trying to marry me off, and please don't bother, marriage would interfere with my afternoon siesta. Forget it. All girls dream of their beautiful dress and big cake all their lives? Wrong, here's one who hasn't. It doesn't take a wedding for me to have an evening gown, and Fontanella's chocolate cake is the best on the island. Marriage and destiny are somehow related. Nothing's wrong with girls who have not made it to the altar (and maybe never will), we are not bitter spinsters, rather we have the choice of Tom, Dick and Harry and we will not give up two for one. So stop feeling sorry for us wallflowers, yes we look awkward because we're made to attend these ceremonial things. In real life, we're goodbye wallflower, and hello blooming rose. We get less wrinkles, because we're not worrying about our husbands faithfullness, there are no kids to play up during the summer holidays. We might be totally free, but no we don't live in manless land. On the contrary. And when the honeymoon is over, we do not deal with open toilet seats, pubic fuzz, duvets which have been selfishly totally taken and left us in the cold. Oh the list is endless, but the wallflower at the party gets a cosy bed, immaculate bathroom with make up strewn all over the place and nobody grumbles. Isn't that worth four hours of wallflowering? I guess so. Oh and it needn't be wallflowering either, there's bound to be someone who'll be interested anyway, we just have to be careful of the watchful eyes of his whoever.
AnnMarie

Hey God....

It's still hot, I'm praying the heat will at least be less by the weekend. I am dreaming of days when mascara needn't be waterproof, when face make up needn't be Coverderm, when hair needn't be worn tied up, when you can safely go anywhere and not end up like a walking fountain of Trevi.... and it's not the laden with cash I'm talking about, but the being totally drenched as if someone took a hosepipe to you. Hey God, do You mind putting it on 20 instead of 40? Perhaps they're having a big roast up there, complete with patata l-forn, and we have to deal with the effects of the Heavenly oven. Oh and probably it's the best slow roasted patata l-forn ever too. Never mind the angels, maybe that's why they wear next to nothing. But it's not possible here, patata l-forn is ok, but patata barra is not on. Or maybe God has lost the world's weather remote control, or run out of batteries. Come on God, blow some cool air to us underlings, we would be very grateful. Forget us able-bodied ones, think of the less able, they are suffering, and God is love, so do something about it please. And now don't go away in a huff and drench the world suddenly, we're not equipped for that. We're humans God. Just take your weather remote and put it on 20..... Merci beaucoup.

Killer Heat

It is a tropical country I am living in..... and it's also in the E.U. Brilliant, brilliantly mad. Also brilliantly hot. But I am trying to keep my cool, literally. Now I love mad, mad spells excitement, spur of the moment, the dizzy heights, but not heat mad. This is not on, it's way too mad for my likings. But then who am I versus nature, this messed up nature. I cannot recall temperatures so hot in my youth (yes I'm getting older), or maybe everything was one big ball and no heat could ever put a damper on anything. I'm always hearing about UV indexes, and heat stress indexes, I actually never knew the latter even existed. Never again will I complain about the cold, at least you can do something about that.

Britain, also in the E.U. but not tropical, and not madly hot at the moment. What I'd give to close my eyes and fly on my magic carpet straight to stormy old England. Ok so the rain sloshes everywhere, but at least you have the option of staying indoors comfortably, of making toast and a good old cup of English brewed tea. And of cuddling up and watching back to back episodes of Will and Grace... splendid.

But it's not to be. Stuck here... go on killer heat, you win. Just remember there are sick bed-ridden people who have it rough enough as it is, spare them more suffering... please.
AnnMarie

The Lacquer of Life

Again back here. This blogging thing is becoming a ritual now. I feel loads better, maybe some magic is working. Or the lacquer is doing its tricks. Lack of lacquer (now that sounds like it was going to be a tongue-twister, unintentionally), that's a bad sign. Even if everything's going zilch, my nails will always be lacquered up - to perfection. A reason why I hate badly chipped or smudged nail polish on anyone, no matter how expertly dolled-up any woman is, bad nail polish talks volumes. Better go au naturel, than au chips and flakes. The 'having had no time to do it up' is no excuse. Se mai, remove it with one swipe and stick with what God gave you. Fair enough, nobody expets women to have my extensive nail polish collection (ture, it must amount to near a thousand), but any colour, put on properly will immediately tranform hands, and the rest of you to cover girl material. Try OPI, or Orly - they're the best.

It's the same with make up. How many women will wear million-dollar clothes, then have their face in contrasting colour to their neck? Or badly streaked eye liner? Tut tut, that's hideous. But you see it all the time. And the same goes for make up, it either goes on perfectly, or go with your birthday suit, you'll never go wrong that way.

I've just gven my own nails the second coat of Orly's Flagstone Rush, a lovely blend of bronze, copper and gold, perfect for Summer. Of course I will never run out of my reds collection..... I've enough till I pass over!
AnnMarie

My Old Man.... who's NOT old!

Just back in after probably the last of dad's retirement celebrations. Food was good, entertainment was mediocre, and it was all so hot and clammy.... but perfect for my dad. I loved seeing him the guest of honour, people love my dad, and I don't blame them. It might sound funny, employees cheering on him and calling him 'sunshine', but really he probably has been that to them. Sometimes I'm one bit jealous, I'm his girl and nobody is about to take my place thanks. So this I suppose makes my man old now, but he's not old, he's like I have always known him, always so young hearted, can take a joke and smiles a lot. I love him to bits, not that I have ever made him very happy I suppose. Ok I suppose he was happy when I was born, but not much after that.

I keep thinking of the dynamics of life which are constantly changing. My dad's retiring, that makes me an adult now, something which I am not ready to be. I need shelter now more than anything else. A place to be, to just be, where one can rest. Good luck dad, I wish to be more like you, but I am me so I am different. Still love you a lot.
AnnMarie

La Boheme

Back here again. I wonder how long this is going to take... something like Puccini's... quel andar e venire, quel guardarmi cosi`. I miss Puccini, Oh his Boheme, his Tosca. Beautiful. But it is a public blog I write in, so one still has to be careful. On second thoughts, what sort of blog is this, when everyone could just tap in and see your whole life on the web. So I'll try to keep it coded. I need something new, something stimulating, something which is worth it financially just is not proving to be rewarding enough. Or just maybe there was some black cloud when I was pulled out to see Earth, well born a breach baby.... maybe it was a sign that things were not going to be easy. My one wish, to see everything and everyone work like clockwork.Now that sounds like a true breathing control freak, when it is really just a hope to see humanity united. And humanity, like charity, begins at home.

Quel andar e venire, it really is possible to feel that and not be on your deathbed... phsycially. Emotionally, that is every day's bread and butter. What I really feel, will not go down in this blog, but when I read this again, I will remember exactly what it feels like.

P.U.S.H..... will give that a try.
love
AnnMarie

It is the early hours of the morning. It's not because I cannot sleep, I have and thankfully I've woken up feeling much better. It's not hot right now, I have a breeze coming in, it's the smell of delicious summer. It should be this temperature always, but I cannot control Earth's temperature. If I could I would set it to a comfortable 20 degrees, just right. Everything's so peaceful here right now. The dogs are asleep, the cats are taking a tour of the house, and I'm settled down with coffee. The phone doesn't ring now, it's all empty on MSN, and I am not beside myself anymore. I'm thinking of reorganising my computer desk, but it's so full with precious junk. There is everything on this desk, from nail polish to a 5 mtre measuring tape. I have Yoga books, nasal decongestant, empty cds, pearl jewellery... it's obvious it's a girl's desk, and not a very organised one. One thing I'm clear of, and that's the Maltese obsession for order. Now my mum is extremely organised, I'm the exact opposite. Clutter doesn't bother me, I know where everything is, so it's a functional clutter. I suppose I give my poor maid hallucinations, but she's probably got used to it by now.
Anyway, I'm tyring to get some more sleep before I wake up for the day.
AnnMarie

PMS

Back here again. A day full of of emotion, thanks to PMS. What's this thing which only girls get when God created them equal? Why can't 33 year olds have their object of transition, where did my comfort blanket go? This headache which has now turned chronic, it hurts too much. Sinus, now where did that come from, can't sinuses behave on their own and not blast your head with a headache.

Feeling too tired to argue today, so that's it for now
AnnMarie

Signora????

Yesterday was a mad Saturday morning. Now I like mad, but not in the mad sense this was. My twin brother decided he was going to pick me up, the minute I'd rolled out of bed and was brushing my teeth. He seems to think that all the world is ready for him when he is. Anyway I hung up on him as I had to finish the brushing, guilty conscience played up and called him again, and agreed to meet him in Floriana because he wanted me to show me around all the state of the art furniture he is going to install in his many properties. Nothing wrong with that, but not when you're drvien by a maniac, driving liability who is intent on braking hard every 5 seconds. And that does not really do the gut any good. Of course, being him, he had to call another girl for her opinion. Nothing wrong with Stephanie, she's a cool babe and a nice one, but it really seemed like me tallying along with them two. At a very fast pace in about 37 degrees. It might seem the heat did nothing for them two, but it did for me. It made be very bad tempered at the very least. I'd told him I'd come on condition that he drove me to a pet shop to pick up food for my kitties. And that's the first thing we did. I went to this Pet Market, things laid out beautifully, and bought something like a whole month of food for my babies, the best, nothing but the best for them. The trouble was when I went to the till, the man in charge for Italian and he called me SIGNORA???? Can you believe that. Ok by the amount I spent he'd probably have readily called me Regina, but I hated the signora, where did the signorina go? Signora, it sounded so old, well I suppose it was out of politeness, but still I'd have preferred the signorina anytime.

Anyway, back inside the driving maniac's car, we went to see bathrooms, kitchens and bedrooms. Now I am not one to go for cheap stuff, but like probably the majority of people I'd shop around and ask for a price. Not the maniac. It seems nothing has a price-tag expensive enough. He just orders what he fancies, money no problem. Good for him, but it left me wondering. I felt so poor. And it made me sad. Tears were close, but I'm a big girl, no crying. Have to put it down to the wheel of fortune. And probably brains over everything else. I have a hard time understanding this twin of mine, his understanding of love seems to have warped itself somewhere down the line. So maybe it's the wheel of fortune, plus ruthlessness being the clue. Good luck to him, but not when the money gives him a big power trip and he starts being bossy over me, making me feel like a little worm in need of charity and that I'm one big mess. I don't need charity. I just hope my wheel of fortune will favour me soon that's all. And I'm, not one big mess either, I'm a person who deserves dignity, but try telling him that, the bossy driving maniac just thinks I'm being weak.

Sunday morning, father's day and I still need to shop for dad.
So I'll stop here and write soon.
hugs
AnnMarie

Figaro

Still going down memory lane.... this is one of the loves of my life.... Figaro. His stay here was way too short, 2 and half years, when they say cats have nine lives.... yeah right. Lovely cat he was, and it's not because 'chi muore e` santo'. He was the first born out of four, he actually was the one to make me a 'grandmother'. Probably the best-looking too, totally blonde and far from dumb. I could not believe I would lose him, it was so surreal, but the ca took over, and he passed on, perhaps to Rainbow Heaven, perhaps to normal heaven. But it was facing death, grief, mourning all over again. I suck at grieving, some people seem to get on with life so quickly, not me, I keep brooding, which is maybe not such a good thing. Ok some might say, grief over a cat??? Well we grieve human beings who don't deserve our grief, so what's the harm over cats? Figaro, I thought the name was so pretty in the handsomely, gallant was of the real Figaro.... Figaro qau, Figaro La.... etc. I keep looking at his picture with a big sigh. Why do the ones we love so much get taken away from us? Is it nature, God or whatever. He struggled to live, then took his last breath, wrapped up in a towel and lots of love. I will never forget the way he used to jump on me when I went to bed, put his face next to mine, and start a very loud purring session. He was content just to be there.

Well Figaro, you are still missed. Oh and remember I love you.... a lot
Figaro 23 -4 -04 - 21- 9 - 06

Time for more....

Time for another... blog. Unfortunately, another funeral too. This time, although I'm ashamed to say it, I don't feel very sorry. About time too. When someone good dies, it's such a shame, when someone whose actions have been not so good dies, it's another story. And we say they go to get their reward, well maybe rewards in afterlife vary, I'm sure they do. We'll see when it happens to me, I cannot say anything with certainty. Memories are flooding back... but I'll put them in my closet of memories. It's a big closet, but space there is unlimited. My memory lane has a lot of joy, some sadness, and some indifference. But I suppose it's that way for most of us.

It's 2pm and the funeral starts too. Will she get to meet him now? If she does what will it be like? I wish I could get there for just a couple of minutes to see, but we're not allowed that luxury. We will see when it's time up. Not now. But someday.

Feel hurt today, not funeral blues, not at all, but have realised some stark truth which is not pleasant. Truth hurts, but when it is your own flesh and blood doing it... well it's a deeper wound. And I think I'm right although nobody seems to think so. Well if the world seems keen on adoring Adonis.... maybe one day it'll be Venus' turn. And I hope I will live for the day.

AnnMarie

Funeral blues....

Good morning,

I've woken up to dreary-looking skies, and rain. This not typical June weather, it should be hot, we should be grumbling beause of the heat, but not today. Well, I suppose we really can afford one rainy day, seeing we're about to get lots of hot ones. I don't like the heat anyway, it interferes with make-up and that's a bit price to pay. I'm 33 and I think I now need the make up, 33 seems so old sometimes, as if the clock's ticking, well it isn't ticking for what it's supposed to be ticking, but 33 is a lot considering I'm just 16 on the inside. I haven't grown up, I doubt I ever will.

Anyway back to here, or the age thing will get me carried away. I had a rough night, now I discover I have a cold. Perfect. Grrrrrrrr!!!!! But still, I don't feel sad today, not at all. The skies might be grey, but I'm anything but. The world's one big mad blue marble though, I know there are people out there for whom this is a difficult day. The aunt of my cousins passed away from the big CA and the funeral's to be held today. I really think of how they're going to feel, probably not very well. Funerals, I hate funerals. I suppose nobody likes them, but every time I attend one, it feels unreal, as if I am seeing everything from some place but not actually in it. I also suppose they're the thing us human beings need as closure, it really doesn't do anything for the dead. But this dying thing is so final. I hate it. This perishing to nothingness, thank God for the after-life belief. True or not, I choose to believe in it, because it makes the grief bearable, the mourning easier.

So today my prayers go to this special family, for them to be able to go through this. I'm not usually very religious, but surely God will make it a little bit easier for them. Death has struck and it's never a good thing. And it's never a good thing when it strikes me either, I don't know how to deal with it. So maybe the skies are weeping too, as W.H. Auden says in his Funeral Blues....... The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods; For nothing now can ever come to any good.

AnnMarie

Short tempered.....

Hi guys,

Back here, Saturday evening, a boring one, even the weather sucks. Nobody interesting online on msn, of course everyone's out. I could go out too, but I actually do not feel like it either. Day was average, not bad, nothing out of the ordinary. But I am feeling dangerous, it's as if everything irritates me. I'm not very good company at the moment, I hate myself when I'm like this but I cannot help it, everything gets on my nerves. It's like being really short-tempered over anything, even the most trivial. I've settled down with a Shandy and my packet of cigarettes, I don't go far from the latter. I wish I could quit, but I couldn't cope with that at the moment so what the hell. It'll probably cut my life 5 or a bit more years short, but anyway I'd rather go at 75 with dignity than at 80 and totally dependent. I've just had a look at Living TV's schedule for tonight, it doesn't look bad at all, Gray's Anatomy starts in two minutes flat, and loads of CSI, so I'll probably give the telly a go. Off to watch some gory surgeries as well as hospital love lives. I just don't know how anybody could conduct an affair in a hospital, it's all so clinical, I'd never be able to let go in a place like that. It seems some people don't find it at all difficult though. Hoping this bad phase will be over soon.
AnnMarie