10''

So if life is a song, then I'm singing, like a lark, if only I knew how a lark actually sang. I don't know how a lark does it, but it's my guess that's I'm not far off. I've knocked off 10'', and that is a milestone. I'm taking in 10'' off everything, yey yippe yey! How can life be so good suddenly when the prognosis was so bleak looking just 36 hours ago. But I am not complaining, maybe as a friend of mine used to say, there is a time for everyone. So many plans materialising, life is good right now and I'm making the most of it. I just need a major overhaul by my nail technician, a good hair blow-dry and I'll be good, as good as it gets. I'm thinking, I'm becoming terribly expensive to keep, but who cares anyway. My cats have the best food available, best water, best care, best toys to play with, loads of love to go around. They are my first priority, so if they're well cared for I can afford to go the extra mile with myself. It's really my party and I'm not crying.... no way.

Angels

So much has been happening I have not been able to come back here sooner. I am 34 and wiser after all. Sometimes you have to have a fluke health scare to remind you of how good life is. Although really I could have done without the scare, it was scary, very scary and I thought it would be the end. And here I was thinking I am not scared of death... well I am, and I want to live. And it's only when you feel as sick as ever that you realise that. Thankfully, I am as right as rain now. It's as if nothing ever happened, but July 29 will be forever etched in my mind, not in a nice way. I never realised the warnings of withdrawal symptoms and never ever thought that cold turkey was something that could happen to the likes of us. It just sounded something for drug addicts, but no it can happen to anyone, and I've never touched recreational drugs in my whole life. Ok maybe cigarettes are drugs as well, but the accepted kind. And you realise that maybe there is a God after all, although we sometimes put him away in the closet and forget about Him. Then He comes crushing onto you with a vengeance. Funny this thing called life. Even funnier are these things called angels, who do not come as tiny bare bottomed cherubs
playing flutes and harps. They come in human form nowadays, sporting jeans, a designer shirt and classy specs. They also have designer watches and are groomed to perfection. They also have the patience of a saint. They're the modern day version of angels, but still angels, and I am so thankful for that. Really I should never grumble again, I have been touched by another angel, and this has been happening in my life forever. At my lowest point, bang comes one of these white-lighted creatures to relieve my distress. Beautiful, then life suddenly doesn't seem difficult anymore, but easy, you just have to lean on the angel and accept the help. You also say to yourself, this can't be happening, but in the same way as bad things happen in life, well so do good ones. It all reminds me of my good friend Chiara, there really are people who promise to be...'Your angel in your darkest night'. Good one Chiara, you seemed a trifle dreamy there, but I have to give it to you, you're totally right girl. I wonder what she's doing now expecting her baby, it's somewhat daunting this baby business, it's a 'let's have a baby' thing as in 'let's go on a shopping spree', but babies need so much care and round the clock attention. I like babies, they're nice, but I wouldn't know what to do with one except stare at such miraculous beauty. Babies are beautiful, their skin is so smooth, excellent complexion, no wrinkles, tiny and fragile. Pity that we don't know all this when we're babies ourself. I'd have been so proud of being small back then I suppose, and I was smaller than most. Difficult to believe but true, I was just the size of my cat, that's all, with silky hair, skin to die for, long eyelashes.... doesn't every model dream of that? And we don't even remember. But our mums do and stare at us in disbellief as the odd grey hair is fighting to emerge. Well at 34 and no grey I'm lucky. And no wrinkles, thanking my dad's side for that. I sometimes see people my age who look old and haggard, wonder how they do it.

So I'm sitting here wondering in thankful disbelief how bad it was just 36 hours ago and how good it is just 36 hours later. And I can only thank one very special angel for that. True he doesn't go bare bottomed (which is maybe a pity), wear jeans and immaculate shirts, does not play harps or flutes, but is the angel of all times, and for that I am thankful, very very thankful.

It's my party and I cry if I want to!

Well, I didn't cry. Birthdays, the one day in the year when you're allowed to do just about anything, just about. Had a terrific morning blowing up loads on pet things; pet food, cat litter trays, clockwork mice, mice which squeal when pressed.... I couldn't stop. I like buying stuff from petshops. Pets are like kids, you only want the best for them, and nothing but the best is good enough.

Evening spent with my family in Gozo at this really cool dinner where everything is transformed to a medieval feast and you really wonder where 2007 has gone. It's as if you get a good look at what maybe my great-grandmother or her mother's life was like. The whole atmosphere rocked, as did the food. But I think maybe I can be strange at times, maybe I'm used to being on my own and I've started liking it. Well, mum and dad weren't medieval with their present (thank you mum and dad), my brother still has not decided what to give me and kept asking what I'd like. Well I'd like a small house with me and the cats, somewhere far off from the world and maybe throw in a corvette for good measure. I told him to get me something off the new Breil collection, he's good at giving designer gifts anyway. I'd also like my own personal hairdresser, a full time housekeeper, seamstress, and beautician, nail technician and therapist, but that seems to much to ask for. And no that's still not what I'd like. It's funny I seem to have a penchant for the good things in life, then in actual fact I find out that I require very little. I just want to be happy, and as my dad said today if we're happy then so is he. Lovely dad he is, although he keeps getting on my nerves lately, he really misbehaves when we're out, he wants to talk to everyone, and I'm not like that. I keep myself to myself, and that's coming from my mum's side.

Anyway talked to Harvey, he is an angel, talked to Nigel, everyone was good at wishing me a happy birthday today. Except I'm not sure I wanted a birthday, I am 34 now. And that sounds old, maybe I'll be getting hot flushes next and wake up and find it's the menopause. It always seems as if my life hasn't been very long, but it's been 34 years already. It's also been a long day and I still am not sleepy. I hope it's not going to be another sleepless night, I seem to be having a lot of these. So maybe some new year resolutions.... to try and get to grips with my sleeping pattern. I don't know where this new year is going to lead, but I know what I want now and I'm going for it.

Que tal a todos....

Countdown....

Plaxo birthday reminder just said.... Joseph Chetcuti's birthday is tomorrow (July 28)... what's that supposed to mean? I know, if anybody in the world knows, it's me. Because if it's his birthday it's also mine, I could really tell Plaxo off, but it doesn't send reminders like... Your birthday is tomorrow (July 28). Maybe Plaxo is too polite to remind an aging lady that, but it really shouldn't have given me the Joseph reminder... when it's his, it's also mine. It's strange this thing, you never really have anything of your own. I'd be lost without him being a part of everything though. Just what does a girl do when it's just her birthday and it's not shared? I don't know, I have no experience in that. It's always been him and I and I hope it'll never change. But if life is a song... then we should be singing, graciously now, the pet shop owner probably has a right to call me Ma'am now and not Miss. Only kids call me that nowadays, which maybe shouldn't be because I'll always keenly believe that kids are my friends and so we should go on a first name basis. I wouldn't mind at all. Respect doesn't come from just labelling someone as Miss, it comes from the inside. But I cannot change things like that when others get such a big power trip from being called Miss so and so. Whatever.

Anyway, just a few hours to go, no more 33, and that's sad. A lot of things have happened this year, maybe it'll be better come 34. Who knows, I don't like the future anyway. So for now I'll keep playing the 'how-old-are-you-game-'' that is having your imaginary friend ask you that a million times. Not much time left....

Tuesday

I'm better though the dreams have continued to crush through the night. Impossible dreams this time. If I could draw I'd probably make a cartoonist out of myself thanks to my dreams but I cannot draw, I cannot draw anything. It's ok, I wasn't planning to replace Caravaggio.

And this is the last Tuesday at 33. Beautiful. Today I was taken aback though. Jess, Yan and Briggitte (that's the Briggitte and Co) gave me a lovely gift, a swinging bear from the Me to You collection. I love bears, as long as they're stuck on the mirror in front of me. Bears give you that sense of cuddliness, the being cared for, I love that. I don't know what I'd feel if I ever met a grisly bear, but chances of that happening are slim, so I'll stick to the Me to You ones. When someone gives me something I always don't know how to react though. Inside I really jump for joy, it makes you feel special, it's the fact that someone wanted to celebrate your milestone with you. That's so nice, especially when you've been feeling a lot under the weather. But I'm ok now.

Anyway I'm still living in a very clean house, and better organised than it was too. Old habits die hard, but I've been making en effort not to let my kitchen table run wild, and to put every Diet Coke bottle into its proper place. Diet Coke, what a pity it doesn't come with the Diet Coke man.....!

The reality of age

The house is quiet again, clean, and perfect. No more chatter. I like chatter, chatter is good, it uplifts the mood, especially grown-up chatter coming from an eight year old. She'll go far. But I'm not well today, I don't know what it is, but I keep getting dizzy spells and small print looks blurred. I have to look twice slowly at text messages. The feeling's not so nice, it's making me nauseous at times too. I hope it's nothing, but in my heart I know it's something. And I'm far from being a hypochondriac. I'm getting old, I used to think being a grown-up was cool, now I'm not so sure. Aging brings with it more things than wrinkles, all the things you've done in your youth.... they come back with a vengeance. Because when you're young you think that consequences are far away, well maybe it's payback time now. Because when you've pushed your strength in many ways, it's bound to backfire. No matter how valid the reason. That is nature, it spares nobody, it doesn't differentiate between royalty or pauper.

Anyway, this is sounding all too sad. But really, I'll survive. I've survived through much worse things, and it'll be ok. Everyone is not well at some point. I just have to acknowledge that, that's all. I can type but it's still an effort to read, dizzy again. I'm logging off for now.

A` bientot.

Early Morning

Good morning, yes it's early and it's me writing. I left the curtains of my bedroom slightly ajar, and the light trying to fight it's way in woke me up. Too bad after I was getting so dizzy all last night, but I cannot just go and sleep some more, so this will be it today.

I've logged onto MSN, but it's so quiet, everyone's still in their beds, or maybe up getting ready for work. But nobody's logged on. So I just came back to my faithful blog.

Funny thing happened... no dreams. Just when I thought the dreams were going to finish me off for good, hey presto they've vanished, which is a big relief because I was getting up way too muddled. I haven't made my usual coffee yet, I'll wait for Brigitte for that. She's probably going to be very surprised, there have been times when she's rung the doorbell, smoked a whole cigarette and rung the doorbell again before I've come to my senses. Yes I'm that bad at getting out of bed.

I've still got something which feels like butterflies inside the stomach, rather like very subdued stage fright. I wonder where that's coming from. So many things happening all at once, but it's not being sad or anything like that, ok let's look on the bright side of things, it being a Monday morning....maybe it's love!!!! Maybe though, it's the countdown to the end of being 33, it's going to be a 34 pretty soon. I've liked being 33, although I don't like odd numbers much, a double same number is nice. I wonder what I'll think of the next one; 44, that doesn't sound very good. So this week I'll be thinking, it's the last Monday being 33, the last Tuesday, last Wednesday, last Thursday, and last Friday. Come Saturday all that ends, and I'll embark on yet another year. We'll see what the new year brings with it.

Anyway, I just have to put some more things in order, so Brigitte will be impressed!!! Hardly, but I'm trying anyway. Buenos dias.

Sunday

So the day of the Lord turned out to be quite boring, as most such days are. Did some web research, chatted to my good friend Joseph on MSN, he's a darling actually. Sometimes you get a good friend, we need friends and we're so lucky we actually get to choose them. And most times they just fall into your lap. Joseph... another blessing in life.

Now tomorrow I'll have my own personal alarm system again, a human one. Brigitte's back, she'll check on my keeping house progress, I've tried hard, I've just cleared the kitchen table for it not to look as if it had just been hit by a bomb. I've not bought any more shoes or jewellery, I hope she'll realise that it's difficult for me to be organised and not to leave stuff running around. I guess she'll find things which will make her cross but she's all right, hopefully she won't get too mad at me. It'll be nice having her here again, hopefully with Jess and Yan too. I am on my own too much, especially in the morning, well not tomorrow.

Anyway, have to go and eat something, I feel dizzy - probably blood pressure's playing up, actually it plays down when I get like this. So buenos noches...... till tomorow.

Dreaming on....

So the dream plague hasn't stopped. I wonder what to make out of it, except that I am not sleeping well. Sleep eludes me somehow, I never could understand how some people switch off the minute they hit their pillow. I am not one of those people, it takes time and effort for me to drift off, and when I do it takes time and effort for me to wake up. Lately, my sleep has been like some trance, in and out, with dreams everywhere. And strangely enough I can remember the dreams. Last night's dream wasn't bad though, I saw this little baby girl, and somebody just dumped her on me. And I was clueless as to what to do, I like babies, but I think I'm not very good at caring for them. So I just held this little baby girl, at the same time, scared that I was doing something wrong. Dream therapy and Gestalt, I tried to focus on this, at first I thought maybe I'd like to have a baby girl? But then maybe the girl was me, an orphan in so many ways. I couldn't see the baby's face but I know she was beautiful and very small and I kept feeling sorry an angry at the same time as in, how could anybody dump a child, worse still such a small baby? Maybe I want to retreat into childhood? Maybe dreams are best left at that - just dreams, but they are invading my sleep territory too much lately. I wonder whether it's to do with my birthday coming up too, I hate birthdays, they just remind you, hey you're another year older. It helps being a twin, at least you're not on your own. Although I really will never understand this twin thing, we're nothing alike, so different. But we're born to the same mum and dad, at almost the same time, same day and same year and that makes us twins. Secretly I appreciate the fact that I am aging gracefully, while my other half looks his age. I also appreciate people asking how much younger I am.... bliss! I just say I am 15 minutes younger and watch their faces getting worked up in confusion. I say I really am, and they think, for a minute, I have lost it completely. Even more bliss. I take my dad's side of the family, and they do not get wrinkles, thank you God for that. My other half of course is the opposite, he takes after my mum.... better stop at that.

Anyway, it's Sunday, another pet hate I have - Sundays. It's the Lord's day so we should all rest, rest, rest.....

Dreams

I don't know if dreams have any bearing of what's going on in life, but I seem to have been struck strangely by some kind of dream influenza. I cannot stop dreaming, and they're not the best of dreams. And they're not insipid I-have-won-the-lottery dreams either. Sometimes they're reflective, sometimes they're dragging up the past, sometimes the past is coming to life, with details which are impossible. They're never about the future though. Perhaps I'd like to relive the past the way I arrange it in my dreams, as if I'm trying to find some closure. It really seems like it, and it's closure about so many things which have been left as unfinished business. Perhaps also, it's the guilt of choosing a better life for myself, but you can only do so much, and you have a duty not to wreck yourself. That much I now understand, although it is still difficult. But a degree in Gestalt teaches you that at the very least. Another perhaps, I feel wronged somehow, and I'm going back trying to relive everything the way it should have, or the way I'd have liked it to be. Maybe I'm wrong in all of this, but these dreams have issues which go back so long.

Harvy. I'm worried about him in Spain. Talked to him, he doesn't sound too well. Ok he's not well, a bit sick with real influenza, but I can feel some sadness there. Life hasn't been too easy on him either. His Colombian roots, he's been raised so differently to me. I never had to go and work the fields before school, to survive. Probably all that work is what gives him a physique from heaven though. But it'll be ok, we're in the EU now and people with a Spanish citizenship are allowed in. They'd better be. But this is when the geographical distance makes it harder. Not long to go now, but each day is like a whole year.

Anyway, I have some things to get done such as renew my passport.... buenos dias.

Smelly tax

I read that London's in for it. Heavy downpours everywhere. Here we get heavy sun downpours, as it beats mercilessly so. And tomorrow will be worse, at least the MET office says so. The world's gone mad and we try to keep our sanity. I hate summer, it makes you rot. It depletes your energy, and your make-up. It makes some people stink, although the same people stink in winter, they now reek of fried onions. Not nice. There have been some people I've met along the course of life who are synonymous with the smell of unwashed bodies. They maybe get away with it when it's cold, but not now. Maybe they should pay an extra tax, yes the government should tax them heavily. Because if smoking is not allowed in public places because of the smell, then what about these peoples' stench? Maybe then they would rather trade the tax for soap and water and contribute to everyone's living happily ever after. Swearing is rude, then so is smelling like rotten vegetable soup. Clothes should be washed, no nobody should wear a vest twice in summer, that is so rude, impolite and inconsiderate. Man invented washing machines not just to take up space but to do their job. Victorian times are over, we're in 2007. So in the same way we have no smoking zones we should have no smelling zones. One good thing about being alone most of the time in summer is not having to put up with smells. I remember the people who smelled very well. I don't see them anymore, so I don't smell them, which is nice.

Anyway I'm sounding like an ad for shower soap and deodorant, but really man invented those too not to sit prettily on a chemist's shelf. So to all the people out there who maintain their personal cleanliness... thank you. To all those who don't, please do not cross my path because I'm so sorry but you will get the end of the stick from me. Because if people seem to have a right to comment about everything, including being big, then we have a God damn right to not accept smelly people. Ditto.

Blessings

Dear blog, I'm back to you for comfort. Just to unload a little, you're too nice to say no to me. But I'm not bringing sadness or anger or exasperation with me today. It's just high time you knew about my blessings. What God wants from me in this life is still a mystery, and perhaps life has mishandled me sometimes, but it's also given me pleasure, intoxicating pleasure, and happiness. Ok so I've not been blessed with money, money doesn't make you happy, that is very true, I've been through that and not even all the money in the world would have made me happy. Love. Now they say you're lucky if you find true love once in your life. But twice, three times, four times??? I will never understand hostility between ex lovers. the one you once loved so much becomes an enemy??? No no no, the fire may die out, but the friendship still holds. At least it should. But I am here thinking about the future now, and there's love, as in LOVE whatever form that love may take.

So I bring you my blessing. It feels like 16 again. Porque ha sucedido otra vez, esta cosa loca llamó el amor, y estoy tan agradecido, muy agradecido. Hablaré con usted luego mi amor!

Carwashed

So I didn't come back to my blog, but I still had a restless night. But I got up on time for my scheduled car wash appointment. Loads of junk in my car, now it's showroom shiny, squeaky clean, and it really squeaks it's so clean. Mood today, indifferent, except when I think of Spain, then the sun comes out!! I have a feeling someone's spying on my blog, it's an uncanny feeling which is into my dreams, . But spying is good, that's what a blog's for... spying. No problem, I'm no pirate.

I'm trying to focus on the good things in my life, loads of love to go around. Loads of nail lacquer, nail art, cosmetics, clothes, shoes, jewellery. Some habits die hard. My Spanish is coming along quite well too, I can have a two minute conversation before freaking out. Change, a lot of that's happening, but change this time round is good too. A few uncertainties, but that's ok I suppose, nobody can fortell the future for real, although I suspect some voo-doo is probably happening. But I'm in the light now, so it can't touch me. I'm being good, counting my blessings, and I have been blessed again. Have to go for now.

Hasta la vista babe!

Night and day

I am a night person. Daytime is just successive hours of lethargy. Come 9 pm, it's as is someone is breathing life into me. And I am totally allergic and scared of garlic. Just like vampires. Except I do not sport fangs and drink blood. Hell no way. I cannot even watch a horror movie right till the end. But I still don't like day very much and I cannot even bear to look at garlic. And that worries most chefs, I've had chefs come over from the kitchen to my table in desperation saying something like, Madam, I cannot cook your fish without garlic, it's going to taste bland. I try to reassure them, not successfully, but the fish has always been all right. I don't want to taste the garlic, I want the fish or whatever's cooking. If garlic was a staple ingredient in all foods, chocolate included, I'd be written off as anorexic. The most beautiful cuisine can be ruined with just a hint of garlic, at least that's what it's like to me. The stuff will never come into my house. Fullstop. Oh and onions, I hate those too, but I can look them in the eye although ingesting them is a no no, no not even for a million dollars, seriously. And I'd have to find someone, not very much in their right mind, to offer me the million dollars first wouldn't I?

So that's my food fads. As for now, I'm deliberating whether to call it a day or a night. Not sure if I should try and get some sleep or else wait for morning. I guess it'll be another not so good night, sleep is one thing which doesn't come easy. Let's see, maybe I'll try resting in an hour or so, if all else fails.... then I'm back to my blog!

Questions

I had a bad night, terrible. I just kept waking up all the time. So many strange dreams. I finally woke at 6, trying to decide if I should fully wake up or go back to bed. In the comatose state I was, I decided bed it was, then woke up at 10 feeling mad at myself. I don't like getting up so late, it sort of ruins the day. Well I can't turn back the clock, I have a terrible relationship with clocks anyway, so whatever.

My feeling today isn't good. No chirpiness, just the feeling of asking where. Where is my life going, or rather where am I going with my life. I accept responsibility but it sometimes feels like a maze. And I don't know where the entry point is let alone the exit. I think I need another Brigitte, this time a Brigitte who takes hold of my life, throws things away and puts it in order. But that Brigitte is hard to find. Perhaps the way we keep our houses mirrors the way we conduct our lives. It seems far fetched but it really looks like it. Maybe it's time to grow up too, I still think fondly of Tinkerbell and I still think fairy tales are cool. On the inside I suppose I'm still 4, on the outside it's 34 in a few days. That is why I ask where, and why didn't anybody tell me growing up wasn't easy? And why do things which are difficult for others come easy to me when the crucial things of life which others seem to walk through like a breeze so difficult for me?

I guess it's time to stop asking. I know I will never find answers, maybe it's because so much has been left unanswered and you think it's fine, you're fine, everything's fine, but it really isn't. And you know through experience (hate that word, that makes you sound old), that the world will not wait for you to catch up, that it's a jungle out there, where man eats man and you have to survive, where compassion and empathy are looked upon as fools and where selfishness wins a big trophy and where parasites are everywhere.

Maybe thinking too much is bad for the health. But I still keep thinking the first time I caught a glimpse of this jungle life when reading Hardy's 'Tess of the D'Urbervilles'. So maybe I should trade Hardy for Harvy and run away to Madrid......! Now that's some serious mood lifting!

Les DOUANES!!!

Wednesday morning... what a waste. Lovely day to chose to spend at the Malta Customs. Lovely day too to spend arguing with the Customs Officials. They want an invoice, how the hell am I supposed to know? Read the small print... but I don't read small print. For 13 OPI's. What the customs official did was show me the addicting OPI's, and wrap it up again and said you're not having them. Yeah right, I am a bad loser, nobody's showing me a toy and taking it away again. So that meant I flared up of course. I love losing my temper and flaring up and seeing the looks on other peoples' faces. I don't do it often enough, so when it happens, it all comes out. Fast. And it takes my utmost strength for a temper flare up not to turn into rage. Rage is a bad thing, it makes you sick. But it's always the same thing happening in public places. These are civil servants and they think they have the right to have attitude. Not with me. That doesn't happen. Civil SERVANTS, they are there to serve. Now I'm not one to think they should be treated like servants, slavery is over, but hey they cannot play God Almighty either. They cannot point their grubby fingers at you and ask you if you cannot read a notice. Me, cannot read???? It was that which set me off, told them hanini you would probably have to go to evening school to try to read what I write. Made a complaint, I love that. Went to customer care, that's wonderful. Told the lady in Customer care (and she was nice) that these people should be thankful because my taxes pay three of their employees' job (not true but it always works). I always think I like staying in the background, but then I love the attention when something like this happens. I called them incompetent and rude (and that's totally true). And nobody's giving me mouth. People treat you the way you allow them to treat you.

Back to the OPI's. So the customs official tried to see the percentage of nail lacquer. Turned out it wasn't even listed. Said it's perfume isn't it, so I saw sweet revenge and took it. I politely asked him, open them and take a sniff and you'll know. And this he did, took a big sniff of OPI, stood back and said ok ok go go!!

So now here I am looking at 13 more OPI's added to my collection. True, they made me sweat, but I also got some therapy out of it. Thanks Customs, I hope it'll be a long time before I'm back, and that's what they probably hope for too.

One for the road..... to Harvy!

The Harvy issue. Yes I'm in love with the guy, and he is with me. At least I think so, hope so and he has to be so. Because I say so:) Also because he says, mi amor to me and te quiero much. And because and because he's him. And if one minute detail weren't there, I'd have packed everything up and gone to Madrid. But there always has to be one bugging detail!!!!!!!! Love's not easy, but is sure changes a lot of things if not everything. Me... it's making me learn Spanish!
Hasta la vista!

Dong

It's still quiet in here. And I have done a lot of absolutely nothing. But the cats are now free after hiding for so long. Especially Dong. This photo was taken in April 2004 and show Ding and Dong right after they became parents. Dong is the upright cat, he's taking care of his bunch. Sensitive cat Dong, he does not take kindly to strangers, change scares him. With me he's just like any other cat, but once the doorbell's rung, then he's into hiding. He gets scared easily. Even cats have their own characteristics believe me or not. Ding, she's a darling, she's friendly, not scared at all. Tancred and Mimi` will try their best. But with Othello, it's rather like father like son, Othello and Dong are easily scared, they do not like being picked up very much. They're nice with me though, they sometimes sleep on top of me and purr into my ear. They're my boys I suppose, I don't like change, I don't like strangers and I'm always scared of people invading my place. But Dong's happy today, running freely and basking in the sun. Now that's life. Carry on Dong, it's all yours today.

Glamour

Slept till 9.30 today. No doorbell alarm. No early morning coffee. No talking non-stop until I wake up. I have woken up to clean orderly silence and only three cigarettes left so I'll just write this and off to the shops. I miss Brigitte & Co. dreadfully. I am just waking up slowly, while Mrs. Facciol has probably done a host of other things. Amazing woman. Pure professional. Now I understand how it's difficult to have glamorous nails and house at the same time.

But it's time for glamour me too now. It would be nice to go to Barbie days in 4 days flat, but that is really impossible, so I'm starting from the little things. First on list are nails. Miraculously I have only had to replace one broken one, but I've gone for 2 days at a stretch without the glamour nails, and it's now time for some serious artwork. And when that's ready I'll be careful to put everything back into its proper place. I also can scream NIGEL, best hairdresser in the world, but it's Tuesday and he's probably jampacked working his ass off. Nice ass too may I add.

Anyway down to one cigarette left. I just have to go and feed my nasty habit now. More later.

When all is said and done.....

All right, I'll admit it, my poor body got the better of me. and I slept, a glorious sleep, a sleep so beautiful it was a shame to wake up. got up in a filthy mood, because it was 8pm. And 8pm is not for sleeping. What I am constantly hearing now is 'Dak mhux postu hemm...!' I cannot believe one person can do so much in one day, or that one person can know how to do so much. But then, miracles happen.

I vowed it was going to be make-over summer, now it'll be making my body over next. I want to go back to being the Barbie girl I was before, without the sassiness. A looker, but no hooker. Time Dr. Joseph had a twin to match, I remember people didn't look at him twice, the looked at me!!! And it's not a long time ago. This self-revenge is difficult to comprehend, but no more. I'm getting older, and it's my last chance to shine. So it's my own personal ARANI ISSA next, it will take more than 4 days, but maybe Brigitte has a point, 'Dak mhux postu hemm... well that could easily be translated bodywise. Funny this thing called life, when we meet people and learn so much from them. And perhaps it's also time for me to start doing and rid myself of this lethargy. Ok so some things have happened but the past really makes us the people we are today. What is difficult is letting go.

So what's happening next, have a 3000 word dissertation to do (but that'll be easier than the clean out), have to learn Spanish in two months, and a target date...Christmas 2007. Maybe I won't look like Barbie, but close to her older sister. Big Jim... that's another story!:)

Gracias Brigitte, you have taught me a lot about life, Gracias Jessica you have made me remember my Barbie days, you have the potential to go far if only you want to, and last but not least Gracias Yanika, you are one big darling and you've blessed my life all of you. Common factor in Brigitte and Co. is honesty, which translates into love. Thank you so much.

Hasta la vista!

Finalmente es hecho! - Trid Tara Biex Temmen!

It's done, it's finally over. What I thought as really a mission which was impossible. I feel destroyed, but superwoman Brigitte just keeps going and going. God bless my friend, you are truly an angel in disguise, as are Jess and Yan. Oh and Vince, another angel, hmmm like a Greek God angel but anyhows. I'm sitting here sipping Shandy and having a fag and in a brand new house. In just 4 days my house has been transformed, how's that Dr. Joseph Chetcuti for house makeover ARANI ISSA!!!!! Oh and we do not have sutures and broken bones, only a few tired ones.

Will be back, have to rest and come back for more. But till then, thanks Brig, e besos xxxx

Me and other matters

So here I am again. I say that, because just as I was about to type my first word into today's blog, Malta's God of electricity decided it was a Sunday and deserved rest! Grrrr, no Enemalta, you issue bills as if the Maltese Lira (or Euro very soon) was peanuts, I work hard to pay off your oversized bills, so you do not have the right to take a holiday. Especially when I have made plans to spend a sunday evening in. Oh no way, take off the surcharge, then we'll maybe compromise, but not like this no.

Anyway, What can a girl do once her pc's come to a sudden halt, no air conditioning, and it's at the time when day is going into night. Well, I was as good as gold, and tried to clear out some more junk. Yes I know that's close to impossible but nothing else to do, and I did manage to do some serious work. Oh and I didn't fall, not even, once, I left that for when the power came back, I was putting this tin of jewellery (tin because I've run out of jewellery boxes and NOT because my jewellery is junk, thank you), and let gravity take its course with a vengeance, I just came crashing down, ergonomic computer chair and all. Miracle... chair survived the worst, and so did I, although I can fortell my thigh's future... it's going to turn yellow, black, purple in the coming days. And I don't have a crystal ball, although I'd really like one (please take note, my birthday is up in 13 days).

I've had a good restful Sunday though. I've worked so so hard this last week. Throwing out junk is serious work. (Apologies Brigitte, I'm taking your applause!). It also has nothing to do with being glamorous, but three more days or so and I can go back to the glamour, this time house included. Only one big problem, I've just run out of space, which is incredible, seeing that I moved exactly for the same reason. Maybe a big villa with pool, and loads of empty rooms would do the trick, but alas I'm stuck there (thank you Enemalta). I keep thinking about Daddy Warbucks..... when I was 21 I made my first million Annie.... yes right make that a 101 Mr. Warbucks, or else I'm up for adoption. Do you really need an orphan Daddy Warbucks, wouldn't a brown-haired girl who's just that bit older do????? Big sigh... it only happens in Broadway, and then we all wanted to join the E.U. Pity I didn't think about that before.

Is it money?

Maybe I'm tired, maybe sad lonely and broken hearted as the song goes, but it's not a good feeling tonight. I keep thinking what I'd have done without Brigitte (and that's the correct spelling), but maybe God sends angels when you least expect it. And maybe I'd better start accepting that things cannot go totally wrong in life, sometimes an angel is thrown in to help.

But it's still not good. Harvy. Miss him like hell, it really hurts, physically hurts. Can I do something to get him here... I wish I could. But it seems in this world that whoever is in the money can do anything, and most times the ones in the money have made the bucks by ignoring the heart. I cry just by mentioning him, it's that bad or good. Maybe he's another angel, who is suffering. How I wish I could throw him a thousand and have him here, but it's not up to me. So do I P.U.S.H. (Pray Until Something Happens), seethe in anger at unfairness and be bitter, or try to keep hoping. Hope never dies, well until there's life that is. And in Harvy there is the joie the vivre no matter how hard it is for him. We're in the E.U. but you don't get far if you're not English speaking. But I'll do that for him, get him here and give him my knowledge of English if necessary.

Love you baby, you are my sunshine, and perhaps you'll be here for good until the year is up.

Day 2

I have to give it to whoever says that they can work well at a desk full of clutter, that's including me till yesterday.... oh no you can't. Thesaurus should add a definition for the word 'liberating' - the feeling you get after Bridget's waved her magic wand. Because it truly is magic. I have not sat in such peace, cleanliness and order in maybe 20 or so years. Really. Although it also includes hiding away from the garbage collector. I cannot look at him in the face for the next two years. I'm not surprised so much junk was in the house, I'm just surprised how the house is transformed without it.

Sexy. Hmmmm. Got to know a couple of truths today, the rest of which Joe filled in. Small world, small people, but history repeats itself doesn't it. There are people and people. And I'll never understand how the lesser people always bag themselves a luxury. Have to say it's remarkable, but poor poor sexy!

Bridget and Co.

Finally.... it's started. And it hasn't been half as bad as I expected. Although now I realise I am a terrible terrible host. Can anyone imagine having people over, doing you one big favour of cleaning out and not offering them a drink?? Big shame on me. It just skipped my mind but I'll be having lots of apologies to do tomorrow. The Bridget bunch, my version of the Brady bunch, but this bunch is the best. Strange, I don't make friends easily, well but not this time. This is one incredible bunch, love the youngest, the elder is a doll, and the mum... well with two kids like that it's obvious the mum's another darling. Big big sigh, it's people like these which make life worthwhile, totally honest and sincere.

Now I'm scared again. It'll soon be time for the computer room, and that is a challenge for the boldest. But perhaps there will be less shoes in there, I don't know what lurks in the darkest corners of the rooms in my house. Probably loose change, and shoes as it's turning out to be. And some scared cat who's hiding, poor souls.

Love life.... hmmm I can only smile. A lot is happening, and it's not just what is the obvious. Or maybe cleaning, and the fetish of seeing what used to be clutter, now in total order gives you a high. I don't know, I'll still suck at housekeeping all my life, but I've got friends now.

Kisses to Bridget, Jessica and Yanika.... xxx

Dull women have immaculate houses!

So, twelve hours or so to go and the transformation begins. I'm scared, I'm used to junk now, what would I do with a spotless house. It's rather daunting, but it's got to be done, although probably I'm going to spend the better half of the day grumbling. But Bridget seems to be adamant, it's going to be a whole transformation.... like my house's own Arani Issa. We'll see how it goes, I think I'm quite strange. I pay attention to the so much detail when it comes to me, I will not go anywhere without immaculate nails, but immaculate houses.... who cares?! Admittedly it'd probably be very nice to walk into a house like that, but I am strange in that department. I think I am strange in a whole lot of other departments too. This thing of people almost being scared of me, of me???? Well then howcome young children think I am just a big playmate? I'll never understand this, ok so I'm temperamental (I'm an artist after all), but I'm not dangerous or anything of the sort. I just happen to have a short fuse sometimes but that's as far as it goes. I must also be the world's biggest procrastinator, but what the hell.

Something my mum said today, it wasn't very fair. A woman looked at me quite hard, and I got absolutely no bad vibes, but according to her it's because I don't look nice. Now I can get paranoid if people look as much twice at me, but not this time. And I had perfect hair, makeup, clothes... modesty apart, of course anyone would look!!!! The mum issue, it just never ends.

Anyway I've also spent one hour waiting for the estate agent who didn't show up. He said it was tomorrow, I'm positive it had to be today, but I can't be right on everything. So I just came up here to blog religiously. Perhaps blogging could be included in the relieving the symptoms of depression, it helps, a lot. It helps a lot more if you view it as a technological way of Ann Frank's diary. And that includes religious confession. Maybe human beings feel the need to talk, to open up with someone or something, and blogging is exactly what it does. My blog has become important in the way a bestest friend would, I just have to come up with a suitable name for it.

The fear of cleaning up

Dear Diary or Dear Blog or Dear Comfort Zone, it is with trepidation that I come here today. OK it's time for a clean up, or clean out, and that makes me go weak at the knees. Not in the same way I would go weak at the knees on seeing Johnny Depp, or George Clooney. It's a different kind of, it's fear. I suck at domestic things, maybe I should have been born on another planet where domesticity wasn't mostly confined to women. This is the only time when I don't like being a woman. But a friend is going to do the cleaning out, I will watch and help out, although this friend really doesn't know what she's getting herself into. My house is mad, just like me. And after having been born and bred into a family where cleaning the house is of the utmost importance, here comes me who couldn't give a hoot about it all. I have to admit, I would love my house to look straight out of glossy magazine, and it has potential, but it doesn't gracias AnnMarie.

So now I'll take myself to buy the necessary cleaning materials and hope it will turn out all right. Say a prayer for me this week.

Today and Haute Red

I finally got very sleepy yesterday, and slept right till 10am. This isn't usual, I'm always out of bed by 8. But then a lot of unusual things are happening anyway. I keep remembering P.U.S.H. and thinking hard about that but it is still difficult. Change is not me, even moving the way a sofa is pointing to irritates me, let alone all this. But I want a change, out of this house. Funny thing I;m tied to smaller things but not to houses, something tells me I'll be a nomad all my life, here and there, and something else tells me it won't be Malta I'll finally settle in. Too many memories, the feeling of wanting to run away, or like it says in Sleeping Beauty.... and the princess slept for a hundred years until the prince came. Not that I'm very much like a princess, but anyway. But I try to be, the reason for doing my nails up in Orly's Haute Red. The name just has a snobbish ring to it, the colour, a fantastic pick-me-up orange-based red. There is nothing even remotely close to this colour on the market. As much as I love OPI, they don't have it. It just has to be Orly this time. Wonder why red always does it for me. So Haute Red nail polish might not transform you into a princess overnight, but it does help. Every girl should have on in her collection.

anyway, so it's P.U.S.H. with Haute Red right now.

Sadness

Dear Diary (because this is what this blog has become now), here I am, utterly confused today and helplessly sad. And angry at myself because I cannot take decisions, because I am seeing my life pass by and that makes me so sad. It's the sadness felt by the Secret Garden interlude, it's the silent sadness of Beethoven's 7th, second movement.

People come to this world for a purpose, but I have yet to find mine. Where is it, or is this some cruel joke? Masquerade, now that's what I have been doing for so long. Am I to die young or old? Is death welcome here, no it still isn't, because maybe there still is the one per cent of survival instinct, of the hope which has not died out yet. I am scared, change is scary. Memories, plenty of those, and those never die either.

So confused, if someone has a stroke, then I'm to blame. But we cannot blame other people for getting sick ourselves. I just don't know, I just hope this time is over and quickly. I'm just too tired for much more.

Post-engagement

I've just got up from bed, totally digruntled. Woe betide anyone who messes around with me. Went to sleep at 3 am with the same feeling, hoping sleep would shake it off. It hasn't. Engagement part was nice... and if I say nice then there's a whole lot of other meanings to it. I had the hairstyle from heaven (best in the whole party, thank you Nigel), dressed to kill, nothing wrong with me. And really cannot find fault with the happy couple, both darlings. Can find fault though with the guests. One guest didn't even say hello, she said, oh you know there is one girl from Naxxar who really lost weight and she doesn't take anything but water. Could have made one big mess, but she'll probably soon be 6 feet under, then of course who'll be asked to do her funeral music.... me... with the weight. Met two other darlings, and aunt and her husband, who make me feel like a million dollars. I love them, always have, always will, and God I'll be sorry when they go. But I will not go to any future family get togethers, they're just reminders of how people have moved on with their life, and also how insipid family can be. Well we don't chose family, and blood should run thicker than water... it really doesn't. It's not very nice being looked as at invisible and asked where your twin is a million times. Now I love my twin, but hey look at me too. I just won't bother in the future. I wish I had my own party though, I've never had my own part, but then who would I invite. Not many friends, and it will not be a family thing. Just friends, yeah then I could just go for a nice dinner and it wouldn't be too different.

Oh well it's life, maybe I'll throw a party for just me and the cats, plenty of tuna to go around.....

Don't cry because it's over, Smile because it happened

Plenty of food for thought. I can feel the holidays stretching out before me, and how does that feel.... PERFECT. Three months of getting down to some serious business. But still three months of not caring what time I'll exactly wake up. It won't matter if I get up at half seven or half eight, nobody's there to time me. Today has been a funny day, I kept watching everyone else's reaction at my dad's school, it was his last day ever of showing up for work. The tears flowed all right, but it was as if I was watching everything from a spot high above, not feeling very sentimental. But perhaps it's because my dad is always at home, they won't get to see him, and I will.

But I've learnt a lesson to last me for years today. Never mope and cry because it's the end of a happy time, just be glad that the happy time actually happened and rejoice in that. Maybe difficult for me, I find it hard to let go of the past, be it happy or not. But I'll smile, smile smile and it'll be all right.

Awakenings

So I'm back here, this blog is getting addictive, but is also a harmless place to talk. Feelings, well, it's like the song goes, straight from the heart, when you say nothing at all so maybe that's a sign I should shut up. But I can't. I want to tell the world how it's become so beautiful overnight, how hibernation is over, and it's time to live. And maybe the world doesn't care, but I don't either. Now this picture is a big favourite of mine, the Dutch masters did some really stylish river scenes, featuring pastoral landscapes and wild clouds. For some reason, they didn't include women in wet t-shirts, which is just a grievous oversight, if you ask me. Call it rebirth, or whatever, but I am on one very happy cloud, and I'm there to stay.

More Harvy

I had a funny night, not a good one, one of those when everybody else goes to sleep and you are just too delirious to sit still let alone sleep. Love is a many splendour thing, it sure is. All types of love are splendour because love is so noble I suppose. Right now my mind is fuzzy, it's the heart which has taken over. Love is because love happens. My Gestalt therapist would say it's because it's the hippocampus or whatever part of the brain, which actually doesn't feel like it functions methodically. I've not felt like this in years, just walking on air... what a feeling. Mi amor, gracias para está en este mundo. Te quiero mucho

Harvy, l'anillo y l'amor........ big sigh!

That's it, I'm learning Spanish and seriously. By the end of the summer holidays I just have to be speaking Spanish like a senorita, there is no other way. Funny this thing called love. It makes you do things you never dreamed of before. Also funny is the way you meet a person and it's either make or break, at least with me that's how it is. When it's break... well not a promising forecast, but oh God when it's make, then it's love, maybe at first sight, but it's total love. And also funny when you think your life is complete and your heart is filled up enough as it is, hey presto Ms. Heart has space for yet another. Harvey, wow in the looks department, but also wow as to the sensitive. Now on the first meeting it was difficult to converse, he doesn't speak English and my Spanish is nonexistent. Thanks brother for doing the translations. But it's sometimes what's not spoken which speaks volumes, Just touching, just hands in each others, looking straight into the eyes ( and oh what eyes!), and the smile, what a smile. I never thought Adonis would be living in Spain and coming out of Colombia, but then I don't really care. He could have been a Martian for all I care. And I miss him, a lot, what I'd give to have him living here. And I could just call him and say Hola mi amor!! Well that's about all I could say, my Spanish sucks. So now I'm learning it the hard way, I good at languages, so maybe I stand a chance.

Still wondering, what is it that makes my heart beat so fast for this man? But then try explaining love, it just makes sense for me. But in all honesty, I have yet to meet such a good looking male, complete with good looks, good manners and sensitivity. And then he gives me a designer ring!!!!!! Can a girl ask for more? It means a lot, especially when you know it's coming straight from the heart, and his heart is as good as he looks. A complete package. This man has really left his blueprint in my heart. Better stop here, I'm going to cry soon. Te queiro Harvy and oh...Te extraño... mucho. Besos mi amor xxxxxx

It does not exist????

The heat is on again. I keep pleading to Emmanuel to put the world air condition remote on 20, but is seems something nearer 40 is his favourite. So it's hot again, and with the heat and humidity comes sweating. Not a very nice not, but then I am in sheer panic every year. As it is, the only sweat glands I have are located in my head, face included. And I always wonder, how do the women shopping in Sliema still have perfect foundation on when mine has probably been left in Msida? So I used to not bother at all. But not now, I have found this wonderful foundation from my chemist, it's a dream, I still have an immaculate face after a day in the heat. My chemist is a darling with a lot of patience. She found me Coverderm, which has answered all my wishes. Coverderm does not streak, rub off or run on you. Alas again I am sounding like an advert but it is true.

So I decided to give one of the leading perfumeries a try, I will not mention which, but the kind of where a pencil sharpener costs LM20. That type. So I asked, do you have waterproof foundation, and the salesgirl thought long and hard and said, no we do not do it. I didn't ask if they made it, only if they stocked it but anyway. Another bossy salseoldwoman butted in and looked at me as if I were something our of Victorian orphanages and said, waterproof foundation... you don't put foundation on when swimming, I said I didn't say I wanted to swim in it to which she proclaimed, it does not exist!!!!!! Ha ha, to which I gently proceeded to take my Coverderm and showed her. She then said but it doesn't come into Malta, to which I most gentler replied, well I got it from the chemist round the corner, to which she glared and shut up. I couldn't just leave so I said, I take it you just don't have it hux? No answer, so I retreated gracefully, so happy to have put this old saleswoman in her right place.

A sad story this, when I was once one of their most coveted clients, now I choose to spend my money elsewhere, and I did try to make the comeback... their loss. But it DOES exist.

Holographic

Blogging is the best way to while away the time between nail polish coats. As long as you're careful and can type with fingertips instead of fingernails. But all the years of piano playing really helps. And nail polish techniques have really moved on. No more endless time of waiting, Orly has found a solution to that - Sec 'n Dry, which really does what it's supposed to do. Nail Polish dries in a flash, hence the ability to keep blogging.

So right now I'm on My Private Jet which is also holographic. And that's OPI's version of a holographic nail lacquer called My Private Jet, which is probably the closest I'll ever come to one. Still, it is lovely if you like goth. I love goth, such fantasy, such mystery, goth is totally holographic. I was wondering how nail polish could actually be holographic, and was quite sceptical about it. But it really does.

And both coats are ready now. At the risk of sounding like a nail polish advert, but definitely a nail polish addict, you never can beat OPI and Orly, worth every cent, and soon, euro.