A single girl's worst enemy....

Being today, less calm then I have been an entire week, it is probably not the best time to vent about an issue rather unrelated to my current anger. However, I may not take the time to do so later and I really feel it need be said.

I have never had many gentleman friends. Boyfriends, boy-friends, acquaintances,... straight or otherwise. All the more I cherish them. I don't show it of course; pretentiously assuming that initiating a date or meet-up is enough compliment for the rational sex.

Whenever it presumed or insinuated that I have ulterior motives (true or not) I panick a little, fearing that I might miss out on company I am fond of. And even worse when the silent accusations come in name of an unknown spouse/sex partner/ girlfriend... Because it is a threat I can defend against.

Therefor dear gender comrades, when your 'man' meets up with a lady friend, assume she is a 'friend' and no more. It displeases me most seriously to lose friends over female jealousy.

What do I do?

I have come to conclude that my life serves no purpose. I do nothing that matters in this world. I do not love. I am not loved. I cannot even hate anymore. I will not have children. I will never finish any, not a meagre 1 of the multitude of books that I have planned or even started writing.

Everything that I could do and don't or still do amounts to nothing.

But the suns shines so ... I might as well gather moneys and spend them on cocktails. 

Gelukkige Verjaardag

For the two very lovely ladies who's birthday we celebrate today. Many happy returns to Emile and Flower-chan.

Rant Xi

It is a longheld belief of mine that too much sunshine kills the mood. Or at least; it kills my mood. This spring has proven no different.

After the initial ecstacy of the summer nearing, I have become my frowning, impatient, short-tempered, grimmy self. I don't foresee any amount of alcohol will cure it. But don't bear with me in the sure knowledge that all might change for the better soon. Just stay the hell out of my way!

Designated Boyfriend

Often I think a girl , especially a single girl has need of a bodyguard friend. Most often to feel safe in dark alleys after sunset. Or to bring all too enthousiastic suitors back with their feet on the ground.

So guys; when a lady friend calls and asks for her favourite snack*, be a man. Get over there and act like her boyfriend.

*or whatever code word that has been agreed on.

Blonde Sympathy

I am a little too late to call my to dye- adventure a sympathy act for a house mate's recent il-fortune when trying to revert her gorgeous copper locks to the natural blonde. I hope she draws comfort nonetheless from the unfortunate outcome of my home-do.

Some advice ladies; whatever our hair needs; go the to hairdresser. You don't want straw on your head.

Fuckedifuck - II

I have been up since 5am, I have slept 3 hours, I have eaten one bowl of breakfast cereal, 3 thin oatmeal biscuits, one bag of crisps, two glasses of wine and some mints.

Yes I'm tired. No I don't feel well.

123

For anyone who keeps an eye on the widgets and applications on the right side of this screen (ba dum tsss), it will come as no surprise to read that or hear me claim te be an avid reader. The less than wonderfull but not too dreadfull year 2011 closed with 123 books on the conto.* I'm very proud. And a little ashamed, because for every minute reading a thousand other more creative things haven't been done. And so set my new goal at a far lower and more modest 1 book to read per week.

If they may be called resolutions, for this year they are not to want, try to be or think too much. But mainly do!

Have a wonderfull and healthy 2012!

*you can check them hereabouts

2012

Keep Drawing

keep drawing from studio shelter on Vimeo.

Spread the love.

The Morgy-Porgy or something else

After extensive internet search in cocktail databases, I have concluded that the juice & spirit mix to which I refer in the title does not as such 'already exist'. Making it my invention and earning me the right to name it.

Below is a recipe, even further below a shortlist of titles.

1/4 Drambuie

1/4 Gin

1/2 Orange Juice

Add orange zest, ice cubes, pink straw(s) and lemon juice to taste.

Shortlist: The Morgy-Porgy, Morgieporgie, Morbo, Ghent Cathedral

On the list

Right before the holiday shopping frenzy breaks out, it's hard to say the following wish / want list is without particular end. It is however to be understood more as a reminder to myself.

• CD Spinvis
• CD C W Stoneking
• iPad
• a few new pairs of jeans
• scented candles
• pink underwear
• cotton socks
• photography books

Rant X (oh yes, very)

I've been in an increasingly bad mood for the past week and there are only trifles and my bad character that I can blame for it.

Combined with a continuing dissatisfaction of not knowing how to interact socially at work and a close friend/ house mate having an accident (drunk on a motercycle) thus ruining my weekend; I'm abot ready to explode and turn once again in the couch gremlin.

It had better not rain tomorrow, and there had better be chocolate left in the cupboard.

Rant X (but not quite)

It has been too long without updates on my personal live.

Of all the logs, blogs, journals and diaries I keep; this is the one place where I can be intentionally vague without being blamed, in fact I feel that it is almost expected of me.

Well I daresay you will not have to wait long before I fall (desperately) in love and I shall need to moan and complain about why the feeling is never ever returned. The person on whom I have set the hopes of my misery and wailing inspiration is a colleague. About my height, dressed casually, nice haircut, hipster glasses, soft voice and timid charachter. But younger and very much taken.

You see my falling for him completely and ensuing heartbreak are inevitable.

Not for daltonists

I am one!

A month ago, coming within three years of my third decade on this planet; I thought myself (and not before time) too old to be falling in and out of bubbly love and unreasonable hate with every change of season. Too old to chase after cute specimens of my kind, too old to still want and desire.

And yet there is hope in my heart. Unfounded delirious joyful hope where all hope should be crushed, dead, extinguished. Hope.

As a wise men said:

"Yes, McCoy. Hope is a human emotion. But after many years in their
continious company I can't escape being tainted. And hope is an emotion I will
not be ashamed of, considered it is turned to good."*

* attributed to Mr. Spock, more or less

Just another blog/internet-thingie

My answers are in the comments!

Nailpolish Medicine

I have before today blogged about how happy painting my toenails makes me. But I daresay there is yet some scientific study and experimentation necessary on it's use as an influenza-medicine; I swear I felt better the second my toes were green.

A poor lonesome house mate

I used to think that I was a loner, since almost everything I like doing (reading, writing, showering, drawing, knitting, ...) is doable alone and I'm never at ease in company. Never.

Until for the first time in a long while I found myself alone at home with no plans and/or intentions. I f*****g hate it. I need people to talk to, to enjoy my food, my wine, my movies, my books, breakfast and newspaper.

Edit: Just realised one thing that is good about having the house to myself: singing along tacky (and not so tacky) music. Very very loudly.