choose a man

"I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naïve or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman." (Anaïs Nin)

And people wonder why I'm single.

a mini-van and someone else's life

Late one night I find myself trying to manouver an unfamiliar mini-van through the city streets after receiving a panicked phone call from a friend going into labour.

Nervous and high on adrenaline, I put all my effort into projecting calm and cheerfulness for the benefit of the three small children staring at me shyly from the back seat. I'm a half-stranger to them and the situation must be even weirder for them, after hearing their mother gasp in pain and their father give me hurried instructions.

As I try to figure out the car and navigate vaguely remembered roads to find their grandparents' house, I feel oddly elated. This is like taking a peek at someone else's life. Like being a mother. Is this something I have missed out on?

It's oddly satisfying, being responsible for three small lives. On the other hand, it's nice to be the one that can be called on to sort out a crisis at a moment's notice.

manual overload

Downloaded a manual for my new phone onto my new phone.

Now I can't find it because I need a manual to tell me where to locate a downloaded manual.

Just another day in the life of a 21st century savage.

a bigger brain moved in

New phone. (Old one broken, beyond repair they say with an infuriating shrug. It was only three years old and well treated.)

The phones of today scare me. I don't have the first idea what mine is doing. It asks me for mysterious downloads and updates and registrations and I feel as if I'm signing away my privacy and safety and soul. It has a bigger brain than I do and is always humming away, doing mysterious stuff in the background.

I'm sure it's only a matter of time before it starts to share information about me with the entire world. What I do, where I am, what my bank details had for breakfast.

And it conveniently fails to locate my high score on Angry Birds.

why Mondays (or Thursdays) are blue

I think life's secret is to just decide to be alive and present and happy, and I will be.

I also think it's all a fatal mistake I've made, a dreadful self-deceit, and the moment I admit it, everything will crumble around me.

This is like trying to believe in two impossible and mutually exclusive scenarios at one. No wonder Monday mornings are tough.

(Actually, Thursday evenings are worse. But that's just me.)

That was today's Deep Thought. And a reminder why it's detrimental to my health to have too many of these Deep Thoughts. Now, back to being shallow and superficial and watching NCIS: LA.

Mucha and the red toaster

My phone is broken and I feel a bit lost and anxious.

Tried to fix the situation by buying a curtain, a Mucha illustration, a velvety jacket, a tomato-red toaster and icecream. Most of it in a second-hand shop, but still.

for cuddling

"Saturdays are for adventure; Sundays are for cuddling."
(unknown)

Or picnics. Picnics are okay on Sundays, too. I had one today. There was pizza, fizzy cider, wild kids, friends who screamed with laughter, and a little bit of vomit.