Isla Mujeres

After having such a hard year last year physically and mentally it was time to do something fun and cathartic. Having Cancer has robbed me of my femininity somewhat, I find it somewhat ironic to go to an island that is named for the virtility goddess statues that were found there when the Spanish discovered the new world. They called it the island of women.

I am sure I don't have to explain how much I want to swim in that turquoise water and how much I want to drink Margaritas on the beach. It is blatantly obvious that anyone who sees that image will want to do the same. If the image above hasn't done it, here are a few more..

I want to see the sun come up in the morning and I want to see it set in the evening. I want to go out and have dinner on Hildalgo and watch the people go by and most of all I want to savour each moment together with my man. To enable me to remember this for the rest of my life, I will document it here, on this blog with photographs and jealous making stories.

32 days to go!

The best movies of 2008

Well, isn't weird to not write anything for over four years and post two posts in one day? You may ask yourself why and I am going to tell you why. Just because I can!  

Here is my list of the best movies of the past year in no particular order.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button -  What a movie. Beautiful, Tragic,  and reminds us to savour the moment as nothing lasts forever.  An epic movie.

The Dark Knight - Crazy, Wild and tragic. Reminds us to savour the moment as nothing lasts forever.

Slumdog Millionaire - It is a weird mix but it is exciting, riveting and the unknow actors are true stars.

In Bruges - The movie that dictated where I wanted to spend my summer holiday. Beautiful city but the movie is better.

El Orfonato - It was from 2007 but I saw it this year. Scary and terribly sad.

Il y a longtemps que je t'aime - Kristen Scott Thomas is one of my favourite actresses. She is so wonderful in this movie that, even drab and understated, she absolutely lights up the screen. She would keep my interest reading the phonebook. 

Let the right one in - Atmospheric, sweet and horrible set in a drab Swedish Suburb. It captured my heart. 

I may add and change later.

A New Beginning

2009, Ne'er before a more promising year for disaster, poverty and renewed chances. I am actually releshing it, the latter of course, not only because my desire to write has come back with a vengeance but because of an assortment of creative expression that has been knocking, waiting for some attention. 

"Paint!", "Sew", "Write", are louder than, "Lose weight!", "Stop drinking!", "Exercise!", thankfully and as a new year resolution I have already undertaken two of the above.  

I know I am writing to no-one in particular anymore as the days of blogging and people being interested has long passed, if it every existed at all. None the less,  I have decided, in no uncertain terms, that anything I undertake this year will be for myself. If others attain joy from it, than even better but I am over the need to please others for recognition (okay not quite but it sounds good just saying it).

So I would like to wish myself a lot of creative joy for 2009 and may I produce some pleasing art in whatever form.

Yay!

Tile wisdom

In Holland we love putting little one liners on little delft blue tiles so we can hang them our walls to show people what our moral, spiritual and/or mental standpoint is. This is so ingrained into Dutch culture that we call armchair psychological affirmations and cliches 'Tile Wisdom' (Tegelgetjeswijsheid). It is a semi-derogatory term for something we all love doing. As we are all guilty of it it is strange that we look down on it. After all, in our mind it gives us instant wisdom, a sageness, a discerning panache. Admiring glances is what we all crave. "Wow, how could such a small head carry all that wisdom?" is what we hope people think of us.

The reality is of course totally different. Think Dr Phil. He is the patron saint of Tile Wisdom and don't we all despise him? Don't you just hate the person who has spewed another cliche, a-one-size-fits-all truism intended to make you feel better but totally misses the mark? Of course there are some that are fun and even profound but they are, in general, undervalued and overused.

However I do have a favourite as it really works for me:

"This too shall pass".

It is simple but puts in perspective a whole range of miserable events, feelings and thoughts and instantly makes me feel better. One point of caution: It should only be invoked when times are bad. When times are good it can have the exact opposite effect and plunge you into a deep, deep depression. It doesn't make it less true, of course and that is why it is so potent. A one-size-fits-all truism that is powerful because it is a fundamental truth. Everything passes. It is as certain as death and taxes (which in itself is worth a tile all by itself).

Here are a few one liners for you to enjoy:

Dyslexics are teople poo.

Does anal retentive have a hyphen?

If there is no God, who always pops up that next Kleenex?

Forget world peace; visualize using your turn signal.

Save the trees, wipe your butt with an owl.

Knowledge is power, and power corrupts. So study hard and be evil.

I am not infantile, you stinky poopyhead.

Your stupid!

Never knock on Death's door. Ring the bell and run, he hates that.

What if the hokey pokey is really what it's all about?

Rap is to music as Etch-A-Sketch is to art.

Warning: Dates on calendar are closer than they appear.

Whatever kind of look you were going for, you missed.

I'm trying to imagine you with a personality.

I'm not tense, just terribly, terribly alert.

Stress is when you wake up screaming and you realize you weren't asleep.

I can't remember if I'm the good twin or the evil one.

You say I'm a bitch like it's a bad thing?

The trouble with the gene pool is that there's no lifeguard.

If going to church makes you a Christian, does going into a garage make you a car?

Some people are only alive because it is illegal to shoot them.

You're just jealous because the voices only talk to ME.

Hang up and drive.

Ever stop to think, and forget to start again?

All I ask is the chance to prove that money can't make me happy

Karaoke bars combine two of the nation's greatest evils - people who shouldn't drink with people who shouldn't sing.

Never miss a good opportunity to shut up.

I doubt, therefore I might be.

And finally

Carpe Diem!

Just when you thought it was safe...

Dear god! How long has it been since I last wrote a few words that didn't have the words turquoise, necklace or stunning in it... Well I can't remember and certainly this instance doesn't count either if we take the preceding sentence in account. (see my other blog juliet2.blogspot.com)

It certainly has been long. Too long and I feel neglectful, slovenly and just plain awful for not writing. I started this blog nearly one year ago. I thoroughly enjoyed writing and I am actually a bit impressed when reading it all back. Not embarrassed as when I hear my voice on my voicemail or previous recorded film on video. I must have had some clear and concise thoughts once upon a time which have unfortunately left me. For me now it is all gold that glitters.. Filled gold... with gem beads...

The jewellery business has been lucrative. It has been a great creative outlet for me and I love it still but writing is something that is universal. Something that cuts across the genders (I still have to find a straight guy who gives a a genuine flying feck about what I make) and across nations. If I look back to who read my blog and I am flattered.

So my September resolution is to at least write something once a month. To lose a bit of weight and to give up drinking ( a little bit)..

Well until then.. .cheers and bottoms up..

Nuuu Yaaawk

A great town. I am just back from it this week. I had a weekend on my own there. I would say there is nothing sadder than seeing a party town on your own and have no-one to share it with. To make up for this loss, I pretended that I lived there. A ploy that fooled a few clueless tourists who tried to get directions from me. "Where is Canal Street?" a group of girls asked me who were clearly there to have a good time. Well, were were in midtown and I knew that Canalstreet is located in Chinatown/Little Italy, a long way away. I directed them to the nearest sub-way to get the train to downtown. I felt good. I pretended that I was a Nuuu Yaawker and I fooled them all.. whoahahahaha.. I walked on, with a mission, -obviously- on my way to somewhere very new yorkish and important, secretly looking sky-wards from behind my shades. When I took pictures, I did this secretly and very inconspiciously. If I couldn't I hid behind some tourist to throw 'em off.. Now, I am totally aware that I seem a little whoooo crazy.. I mean, who CARES?? Well the little voice in my head cares... the one that tells me that I am really uncool and pathetic if I am -just- a tourist.



Nonetheless, I have to be honest to say that I am really at home in new york... I like it. I love the decay, the gaudiness of timesquare, the wonderful beaux arts architecture, the Norma Desmond-ness of it all. Past glory. When I am there I feel sadness and gladness at the same time. You just haven't lived unless you have seen the skyline at night. It is just breathtaking and so exciting.


The reason why I haven't been blogging is because I have started something new. My own jewellery line. I make jewellery and I spend all my time making, designing, researching and luckily selling. It makes me happy but it leaves me with little time to do anything other than that. I will keep writing but I won't be as prolific..

It will be a little like past glory.. How very Norma Desmond..

Kabbalah Kablahblah?

I am trying to get some spiritual balance in my life. I have tried to find god when I was in my twenties but after seeing babies suffer in some far flung land, I had sort of renounced my beliefs as it were. So despite this I am still intrigued by Kabbalah.

As an avid Heat reader (a guilty sin..one of many. My IQ actually drops 20 points when I read it), I have noticed that among the hollywood elite a fair share wear those red Kaballah ribbon/string bracelets. Of course, the most famous patron of this ancient spiritual teaching is of course Madonna, aka Esther, aka iron lady (oh no.. wrong Madge). Now this doesn't mean that we know anything more about this religion, Mystic teaching or whatever it may be. It seems to be shrouded in mystery .

Now apparently, you don't have to be Jewish to receive its teachings but that depends whom you speak to. Madonna was not Jewish, but does her name change attest that she has now converted to Judaism? Also, you don't have to be a man to be able to practice Kabbalah but again, that depends on whom you ask. Now, last time I looked Madge had developed some mean looking, scary muscles so I am not too sure what has been going on there. The having of children seems to indicate that she is indeed still a woman.

If you want to have someone teach you Kabbalah, you will have a hard time finding a teacher. They do not advertise and there are not many who are willing to take on people willy nilly. The tradition goes that if you are ready one will appear. Despite my jests I am intrigued and I wonder if it would be for me. I love mysteries and although I am pretty sure that god, if he exists, was throwing a major tantrum on Boxing day, he is pretty much AWOL. It makes me not like him very much. Maybe he didn't get what he wanted...

Blaspheming aside... I want one of those evil eye warding-off bracelets. I could do with some good luck for me and my family. Perhaps, learning Hebrew and converting to Judaism is taking it a bit far for a bit of red string, but I guess the root of it all is that I want to know what it is all about. I also wonder if you have more peace when you are religious or really believe in something. I just do not know what that feels like.

Then again, I already have an evil eye warder-offer in my house, brought back from a holiday in Turkey. The jury is still out if it has done anything at all since I got it. I do look at it sometimes to see if it blinks but it never does. It stares unabated into the distance with its blue, turquoise and black eye perhaps doing something, but who knows? That is my problem with these claims. How do you know that the bad luck that befell you would not have happened if you were wearing a Kabbalah bracelet or had a Nazar Boncuk hanging in your house?

I guess it come down to faith. I am faithlessly challenged.

Whatcha waiting for???

I am thoroughly embarrassed that I haven't even looked at my blog for nearly a month. So bad. So bad.... It got to a stage I didn't dare look at it. Noone wants to be confronted with their failings and I have to be the least of them.

I must say that besides Christmas day, this past month has been the worst of this year. Terrible things have happened all over the world and bad things have been happening with me as well.

I have found my limit career-wise. I was always skimming around the edges, the borders of my capabilities and I have now reached them. My body is also protesting. "Here and no futher" it seems to be saying. Mind you, there is no physical work involved... it is not like I am in a chain gang, or anything. I guess you would find your career limits fairly rapidly in a chain gang.. I mean, there is the end of the chain or the top of the chain. Big deal!

Finding my limit has been a very disappointing experience. I feel deflated and beaten. Panicked even. There is no resignation there but actual fear. I am scared because there is no longer any growth left and that I am judged for it. I am beaten.

Well now I have decided I am going to embark on another venture to find myself. I am going to use my talents and my love for baubles and sparkly things. I am going to be a professional magpie and hopefully sell off some of my creations.

I have already sold some stuff (okay it was to my mother, grandmother and colleague) and I am happy. I feel divided therefore. Part of me is very happy.. the other miserable and feels worthless.

Give it a few months and I will tell you what the valid feeling is. There is more money going out than coming in, but at least I am trying.

Well gotta go.. got some reading up to do!!!

Is Nothing Sacred?

I am referring of course to solving age old mysteries...

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/beds/bucks/herts/4040127.stm

I much prefer not knowing (in hindsight) and making up wild theories....

*rummages to find her copy of "the Da Vinci Code"*

Tearful

I am feeling nostalgic and a little tearful these past few days. Nostalgic for a more carefree time. A time when my choices were limited but at the same time gave me a great sense of freedom. For example; when I lived in rooms while doing fashion college I chose to buy a beautiful dress that I could not afford and to ensure that I would not starve and run out of money half way through the month I had to reduce my diet to eating toasted cheese sandwiches and drinking freshly squeezed orange juice for the rest of the month. No meat, of course because that dress was all important. Mind-numbingly shallow but on the other hand; I had good clothes, I was 20 and I loved toasted cheese sandwiches and freshly squeezed orange juice. It was a win-win situation. Not to mention the fact that I actually looked good in that dress made it all the sweeter.

Now, it is simply not the same even though the choices are the same: To have good clothes and starve or to wear clothes a few years old and pay the mortgage. I work all day, every day, and if I am very unlucky in the evening as well. I am tired... Very tired and I feel drained. I know I am not alone but I have to keep working for money, money, money... MONEY, to get by and buy. My choices are even more limited, I guess. And to top it all I don't look good in that dress anymore. In fact, I doubt it would get passed my ankles. But other than that. No complaints.

But back to being tearful. It is not a "I am feeling sorry for myself" tearful. It is more like misery mixed with happiness. I am happy I have family and friends who love me dearly. I am happy that I have kids who have their whole life ahead of them and that they are happy. I am happy that a dear friend of mine got a great job after just one interview after years of being doubtful of her own worth and abilities. I am so happy for her but at the same time I know she is now entering a rat race that at times she will regret ever getting into. She will look back, like I do, and elevate those days before to a mythical status.

The ' misery' which I feel comes from doing something that I don't actually love. It does not make me happy. Now I have read motivational books but they do not take away the fact that my job sucks at times. Big time. I do know that only I can change that but I also know that, at the moment, I am not in the position to actually do so.

So I dwell on times when the world was mine and the sky was the limit....

To be fair; I have done many things already.. Not enough, obviously. There are many things I would still like to do, but I am pretty content with what I have done so far. No complaints

*listening to the oh so sentimental Claire de Lune by Debussy*

forgeddaboudit

My daughter is going to Secondary school next year. The frantic and frenzied proceedings that go before she has even picked up a book is now in its initial stages.

Yesterday I went to a Parent's information evening where everyone was informed by two lovely ladies about the processes and procedures that Amsterdam has put in place to make choosing and registering at a school as fair as possible. Regrettably these proceedings seems to have a built-in frustration level for every parent. I won't get into detail here as to how it works but what I found astounding was the level of aggression coming from some of the parents. Worst-case-scenario after worst-case-scenario was thrown up and no matter how much these lovely ladies tried to take these worries away, these unlikely turn of events were cherished, nursed by some parents and they were just not going to let go. It was almost if they were wishing for it to go wrong. They sure as hell did not want to be re-assured!

Images of aggressive parents pouring cement boots for some school headmasters who were not going to let their child enroll flashed before me.

I was a bit blase because I have lived the fear a couple of years earlier. Getting the right school is hard and you never know if you have made the right decision until it is too late, but I know it is not as bad as I thought. It starts going bad when your child is enrolled in the school of their choice only to find that they are loath to lift a finger to get good grades and are so laid back about everything that you have to check whether or not they still have a pulse. This is my plight right now. I am a bereft mother. I have an intelligent son who is sooo very, very clever but cannot be arsed to do any work of substance. It makes me sad because I know he is missing out. I tell him that he will be gray and balding before he finishes his school career if he is not careful. He just looks at me like I am the naggiest nagging mother in the whole naggy history of the nagging world.

Whatcanyoudo?

The Man from Atlantis

I read today in a Dutch Internet Rag that an expedition is being set up to find Atlantis. That is, the people leading the expedition believe that they have already found it and are setting out to prove they are right (I can see the Horizon Documentary already.. Dramatic Music.. Atlantis has been found.. *Cue Cheery Music*.... but wait.. *Cue dramatic music* it is all a lie/farce/based on fiction not fact *Cue sad wistful music* Conclusion: Prrrrrt.. fade..out...).

http://www.discoveryofatlantis.com/ and the more respectable BBC link.. http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/4011545.stm

The expedition is setting sail for Cyprus, the purported remainder of Atlantis. It is claimed that most of Cyprus is now under Sea level, which made it a peninsula of Syria in Ancient times. Atlantis was hit by a deluge which turned it into the distinctive shape Cyprus has now.

I wonder if the Turkish or Greek part was hit. I anticipate a great wrangle for control over this subaqueous city/country. If it is ever proven.

The theory is that there are man-made structures found when there should be none... *insert environmental dig here*.

Anyway, it will probably all fizzle out and we will more than likely hear of their prostrate defeat before long.

Can't wait to be proven wrong, though!

Failure..

Yes indeed. Failure. I have not written a fictional word for over 2 weeks now. I am ashamed. I am defeated by my own fear of failure. Rather than be confronted that I cannot do something, why not refuse to do it? A losers attitude to be sure.

But I have been busy: I am recording my family's history on my other blog just to ensure that this information is accessible for all.

I also cooked a fabulous meal for my grandmother who is 83 today. 4 different curry dishes, I even made my own cheese (!) and cooked a starter and a desert. I am totally exhausted but full (of myself).

All in all it was a good weekend, failures included.

Madness..

Last Tuesday a very outspoken film maker, columnist and writer and full time reactionary, Theo van Gogh was butchered by a fundamentalist Muslim.

He cycled past Theo van Gogh, shot him, ran after him when he crossed the road. Shot him again, stabbed him numerous times and stuck a note with a knife on his chest. He stood over him until he was dead and ran off. He was caught but only after the police had a shoot out and shot him in the leg. Theo van Gogh was 47. His murderer 26.


All this happened in my friendly, quiet neighbourhood. My daughter's school is opposite his house, a few streets away from our house. One of her friends live right next door and they knew Theo van Gogh personally. The place he was killed is our shopping street. My son cycled past the next day on his way to school and was horrified at the amount of blood that was still on the pavement

It all brings it very close to home. I must keep telling myself that it there are evil people in every religious group, in every race.. It is hard not to give in to the knee jerk reaction to tell them all to get out. It is scary because our basest emotions come up and we think that we are above it. This is an act of terrorism and we consequences will be attached to it. For all of us.

Mosques are already being hit and smeared by paint. Protection for Muslims needs to be stepped up and Muslims in Holland are all apologising for the heinous act of one man. And then I asked myself this: Why? Why do all Muslims need to apologise for one man? Just because he was a Muslim does not put the guilt on the whole of this religious group. I understand the need for it. We all want to hear that not all Muslims are bad but we know this rationally. We do not demand that all Catholics apologise for the IRA, do we? Then why is this different? I find that differentiation very disturbing and it makes me very sad. We will never transcend racism if we do not even see it when it happens. We do not see that Muslims having to defend their religion because of the act of this individual as wrong.


Pim Fortuyn was murdered by a Dutch, white,probably protestant national. No one demands that all of the protestants or animal rights groups or whatever faction he belonged to defend him, do we?

Of course there are Muslims that say that Theo van Gogh provoked this attack because of his outspoken criticism on the Islam in general and the treatment of Muslim women in particular. This testifies to a deep ignorance and I am truly saddened that this is the view of certain individuals, but again that does not mean that this the view of everyone. Unfortunately this will be jumped upon as another example of Muslim "badness".


Theo van Gogh will be cremated at the cemetery opposite which I grew up tomorrow. Chaos is forecasted. I will stay at home and work there...

All Hallows eve

This is the eve of the writing marathon I am about to embark on. I am sure I will fail miserably (I have to write 6 pages a day!). I think therefore that all the entries this month will be excerpts of my novel..

Encouragement is welcome.

As it is Halloween I have a little story to write about my scary experiences when we lived in Florida:

We arrived end of September 1996. As we didn't have anything organized yet, we stayed with friends. They have a house built in the 70's. A one story bungalow style house with pool. Really quite nice and as it was reasonably modern I did NOT expect the stuff that happened whilst our stay there.

On our first night there we collapsed on the bed totally exhausted. We had been on the go for 24 hours. A few hours later I woke up with a start (the lights were on!) and the bed wobbled as if someone was jumping up and down on it. I was too tired to think about it and I fell asleep again. The next morning I asked Al if he felt it too and he vaguely remembered something weird. Nothing concrete though. This bedroom was to become our space for us and our kids for close to 3 months.

Around November I helped set up the Christmas tree. Lucy was very particular about her Christmas tree. It had to be so filled with tinsel and baubles in order to obliterate any hint that there was a live tree under there. It looked like a tinseled cone.

.


All around the house there were little artifacts scattered to leave everyone in no doubt that it was Christmas. I pulled a pretty little music box out of the tinsel box and tried to switch it on.

.


It was totally dead and I asked Lucy if it needed batteries. She confirmed that it hadn't worked for the past two years. It was cute enough to be displayed nonetheless.. It depicted Father Christmas putting presents under the huge tree observed by two kids looking down through the banisters at the top of the stairs. When it worked it must have lit up the lights in half a dozen different colours. I put it on the table next to the sofa and went about my normal business.

Max celebrated his 7th Birthday on 20th November. He got a huge R/C Monster Truck.

.


A few days later I went to the mall with the kids to do some Christmas shopping. Lucy and hubby were out that evening so it was just us. We had eaten in the Mall so when we came home I put the kids in bath and bed. I kissed them good night. I walked back into the living room and threw myself on the sofa with a huge sigh.

From the corner of my eye I saw little multi-coloured lights switch on. I turned to see if my eyes deceived me. Unfortunately not. The little music box was switched on. It turned. It made music. The lights were on. I was freaked out! I got up quickly still pretending nothing had happened and went into the kitchen to grab something to drink. I put the jug back into the fridge, closed the fridge.... and the radio controlled big monster truck started to move about. I jumped out of my skin but I immediately suspected that Max was fooling around with it. I went into the room and asked him what he thought he was doing. He looked at me as if I was losing my mind and proclaimed his innocence. I looked for the radio controller.. walked out of the bedroom and found it next to the monster truck. I freaked out even more. I switched of the monster truck with the button on its belly and turned it over. I don't have to tell you that I was scared as hell.

Max and Tamsin came through and we sat up for a while I calmed my nerves. After a while I walked the kids back to the bedroom and as we walked past the monster truck its wheels started spinning madly again. I nearly screamed and the kids hid behind me. I took out the batteries and it stopped.

I lay down for a while with the kids until we all fell asleep.

I cannot to this day really explain what happened. All I can say that is whilst cleaning a cupboard in the living room thoroughly, I found a little hand print on the glass I just cleaned.

.


*listening to Massive Attack Butterfly Caught*

Mojo

A friend and colleague asked me this.. Who, besides Austin Powers, has Mojo? An intriguing question...

I have to say that very few people have mojo and most that have have it, in my view, sing.

First of all let's define my understanding of Mojo. I think Mojo is sex appeal. Natural and unforced. It certainly has nothing to do with liking their music and it doesn't have to mean that they are good looking.

So here is my list:

1. Marvin Gaye. (Marvin has mojo because of his musical talent. "let's get it on" is the best "let's get it on" track..ever.)
2. Elvis (Elvis had it in his younger years and even a little when he was fat. I never liked his music but I cannot deny the appeal).
4. Prince (he is the only man that can wear make-up, lace, bouffon hair and high heels and not look like a total drag queen. He was very sexy, I thought, during his "Purple" period).
5. James Dean. (He was talented, a bad-boy and good looking..)

People who think they have it but really don't

1. Robbie Williams
2. Any boyband member (see above)
3. Usher
4. P Diddy



Try it. It is not as easy as it looks.

Can I do it? Yes I can...

I've been feeling a little off colour lately. Not inspired at all about anything. Discontented and misunderstood. Not sure why, really.

It might be because the nights are getting longer and despite being a night person, this also means that the mornings are dark and uninviting.

Up as a lark, I am in the summer. Full of energy and spirit. Now I feel like a zombied drone worker who needs to make ends meet. I must, I must, I must, is my motto nowadays. Mostly to satisfy the I want, I want, I wants of my bank, my kids, myself...

I am wondering about what I would really really like to do. It is a question that has been plaguing me since I was a teenager. What is it...that I.. want to do in life. I know it is has all to do with how others perceive me. I want to be admired, I want to be creative and inspire others. I want to write and to convey witty insights and deep thought and gain the respect of others. This is really quite disconcerting to me. Deep down I don't want to be so concerned with what others think and this is where the dilemma lies. I do love it when I get a comment from someone. Be they stranger or friend. When I know I have helped someone else gain perspective and insight or inspire them into doing something they never thought of doing.

Now as to the actual professions and careers I have considered, I will put in a row down here in chronological order:

1. Singer - When I was five I decided that the school opposite our house should hear the dulcet sounds of my rendition of pussy miauw (a Dutch nursery rhyme). I went up to a full class of long haired, bell-bottomed, long-lapelled-shirted kids and sang my little heart out. .. Although this did not receive the rapturous applause I anticipated, I did get thrown out of the class and I went on to the next class room where I was kindly but firmly ushered out. I went home to find my mother and grandmother in floods of tears and the police looking very concerned and swiftly halting their area search.

2. Stewardess - I wore blue strawberry fruit punnets on my head and serve air-tea to my cousin. I dreamed of a jet-setting career in the sky visiting all sorts of exotic places. What I did not know then was that I looked naff with a punnet on my head.

3. Hairdresser - My barbies which are now owned by my daughter still bear the scar of my art. It was not to be although I do live out my dream by cutting my family's hair. It is a good compromise. That I only do one hairstyle does not phase me...

4. Forensic Scientist - When I was thirteen I wanted to become an FBI agent and to crack murders. The fact that I am totally squeamish and gag even at the sight of mould and other crud did not in fact dissuade me at the time. It was not meant to be. I am however a bit of a forensic scientist when it comes to keeping an eye on my kids. I know when they have been naughty/in trouble and have an eerie 'profiler' quality about me. It astounds them and frustrates them. I call it Mummy vision.

5. Actress -This is my father's doing. He wanted me to enroll into RADA and become an actooor. I was too scared and it did not happen. No surprises there... I did have a stint of being an extra in Dutch movies and an educational film about AIDS for British Soldiers abroad. I auditioned for it and got rejected because my English was too good. As the Dutch director did want me for the role of a prostitute, I was offered to opportunity to be an extra (prostitute at bar.. A role I came to play in a few other Dutch series ).

6. Fashion Designer - Now this is something that I actually did study for. Only after the second year did I realise that the most likely job I would get after graduation is a position as button-sewer-onner #2. It did not appeal.

7. MSCE - This was based solely on the vision I had of someone asking "My Server crashed can you get an engineer to look at it, STAT?!"and then to see their faces when they found out that it was a woman engineer!! Only after I read the first chapter of part one of the MSCE manual did I find out that it was ARSE-NUMBINGLY boring and that a job requisite was to wear plaid shirts.
I did however become a helpdesk agent. The fact that I don't like telephones or have in-depth technical knowledge did not hinder me in any way.


8. ehm.. I guess I want to be a writer? A jewellery designer? A antique furniture dealer?

God.. I don't know...

Got Fear?

Robert sent me this one today..

http://home.earthlink.net/~houval/gopconstrm.mov

I am scared...but not for the reasons they are giving...

Mac Donald's but not as you know it

Guardian Unlimited The Guardian The question mark over McDonald's
I thought it was a joke.. but in fact McDonald's are deadly serious. McDonald's are going to use a question mark to replace the golden arches as their new logo.

What are they trying to tell us? That they do not know what the hell they are serving us? Or that they don't know what the hell they are doing? It certainly smacks of desperation. Using a question mark as their new logo is the stupidest thing I have ever heard of and wrong on so many levels. What are they going to do with companies who use the question mark in their slogans? Sue them? Are their employees going to feel justified in greeting us with a huh? Instead of a smile?

"McDonald's but not as you know it" will be their new Slogan. What did they do? Ask Spock to think that one up? McDonalds but not as you want to know it.. See how easy that one is? It is the equivalent to giving your newborn baby unfortunate names like Mistikalinagiorgia or D'uanniashaheena or Condolencesaleeeeeeza. (These names I just made up..Use at your own risk and responsibility).

I bet all the other fastfood companies are pinching themselves and laughing themselves giddy...

They'll be singing "Ding Dong the Arch is dead" for many months to come..

(notice the amounts of question marks I have used???? We can until McD unveils their new company identity on Friday..then it will be all over baby!)

Worm your way into health...

I have just seen a documentary about parasites. The first reaction I get when I think about parasites is one of disgust. They did show some pretty disgusting parasites (most of them worms. Like guinea and screw worms) that cause all sorts of misery. It underlines everyone's prejudice that all parasites are bad.

Not totally founded as it turns out. Apparently, parasites like worms can sometimes help in keeping our bodies in balance. In fact intestinal worms are so effective in calming and balancing our immune systems that they are sometimes prescribed for people with hay fever and certain bowel diseases. This treatment means ingesting worm eggs deliberately (eeeeeuw!) . It is even suggested that because we are mostly worm free in the western world we have such high occurrences of asthma and other allergies. The worms need us to exist and it may turn out that we need worms in equal measure to stay healthy too.

It was also suggested that parasites can change normal behaviour. Not only in animals but also in humans.

They gave a few examples where this happens but this one sticks out. A stickleback which is infected with a tapeworm is not frightened by its predators anymore. They showed that very effectively by putting an infected and a healthy stickleback in a tank and then putting a fake herron lookylikey above it. The healthy stickleback fled like its life depended on it but the infected stickleback did not even move and just stared the herron out. In nature the herron eats the infected stickleback, the tapeworm releases its eggs in its guts and the herron poo lands in the water to make the circle complete. The tapeworm thus benefits from altering the behaviour.

They also touched upon the fact that one in three of us is infected by taxoplasmosis parasite which lodges in our brain. The Taxoplasmosis protozoa alters the behaviour in rats in a very similar way to the tape worm altering the behaviour of the stickleback. Rats are carriers but taxoplasma parasites need another host to complete the cycle. Cats are notorious for being active hosts and because they make the rat less fearless, they more easily become prey for a cat to complete the cycle. We get infected by our cats in obvious ways (eeeuw eeeeuw!!!) and this has also been linked to reckless behaviour. People with taxoplasmosis infections have slower reactions and also show a lessened sense of danger.

Now I am a cat owner and again I have found another reason NOT to drive a car. Which in fact proves that I have not been infected because if I had, I would probably have less fear of driving. This is my version of the story and I am sticking to it.

So in conclusion some parasites ARE useful.. Even though they are thoroughly disgusting....