Live with love, not in fear

I've just been bombarded by wellmeaning advice lately. Could karma be trying to tell me something? The messages I get have been delivered by the oddest mix of people. Some strangers and some old friends long not seen. A new friend I met during a conference in London told me "when one door closes another one or more opens".
That is true when you are in a position mentally to actually recognice these doors.
Sometimes after a blow, one takes a bit of time to reach that stage. But it seems I should become more positive ASAP. My good friend since 5 years made me aware of the power of self-fulfilling prophacy.. Something I know I'm guilty of.
A lovely man from Israel said the most powerful saying to me. He even grabbed my face in both hands and delivered with such intensity I think I have no choice but to listen to him. "Live in love, not in fear. Smile and keep going. Forget the past, there is only future ahead"
2010 I'll wow to become more focused and positive. Just saying so makes me feel happier. Perhaps this all really works..
The mind is a place of its own. It can make heaven of hell and hell of heaven.

I love babies too, but

But I'm not so sure about their mothers. Just today I tried to enjoy a coffee and newspaper in one of my favorite coffee-shops. To my huge disappointment two mums with their bundles of joy plonk themself down on the table next to me. Well, that inaccurate. Between them, Bentley priced off-pist trolleys, cots, changing bags, bottles, toys blankets and much more they actually occupied 3 two pax tables AND blocked any access on either side, leaving guests to hurdle on their way in or out and waiters manuvering like circe de solei doing their job. The babis cried. That's what babies do. The young mothers ordered each an apple juice. And the circus begins. Changing, burping, one brestfead, trips back and forth to the changing room. Apple juice knocked over. Bisquits all over the floor. What a mess!
And I can't help to overhear the detailed baby-talk between them. I almost think they spoke extra loud in their pride of being BABY MAMAS.
I mean. They are everywhere with their huge trolleys.And they walk side by side, blocking the entire sidewalk. The looks you get if you get if you try to squeese by! Can't you see there are BABIES here, you idiot, their look says.
I've even ended up in the cinema next to a screaming baby with a mother and all her equiptment. I swear they cannot possibly need alll that stuff! They bring more for a trip to the supermarket than I do when packing for a weekend getaway!
I like babies as much as anyone else, but there is such a thing as too much of a good thing. When I was shhhhhushed for caughing by two angry baby-mamas in the cafe, I left. Found myself a really grotty brown english pub. Last baby -free frontier.

Retail Therapy

I've just been on a full scale shopping bonanza. How wonderful.
My sweet grandma transfered money to my account with the spesific instructions to "spend it only on things you can wear. This cash is for vanity only"
Hurray! No worries there. First stop: pre-tone-toner, toner, day/night cream, eye-cream, masks, serum, pre-serum serum... the whole package.
Next: shoes! Boots eels and goodlooking semi-flats.
By now my heart is beating and the general well-being has drastically improved.
Then I'm off to get myself a nice new winter coat. Found a real beauty with the nicest details and tailoring like I've never owned before.
When I add jeans (which I now can fit into thanks to the world famous break-up diet) two tops, I'm mildly euphoric. Just to add insult to injury I get a scarf, one qute clutch and sunglasses as well. By this stage I am high as a kite.
Never ever underestimate the true value of retil therapy. It is perhaps not sientificly proven to work, but it sure as hell does. Any woman knows that. And for me at least, the feeling lingers a long time. Every time I use my serum, when I open my warderobe and find NEW THINGS to wear. Good stuff. Should I have spent money wisely on rent and food and boring stuff, sure! But we can't disappoint grandma now can we? And, as loreal have brainwashed me to think: I'm worth it!

Sundays are and never will be what I want it to be

Since childhood I've had a difficult time dealing with Sunday's. And from talking with friends I know I'm not alone. So, what is wrong with Sunday's?
Nothing that can be easily explained. I usually just feel the blues. The weather is rarely as good as it should be. And there is just that x-factor to this day which I feel difficult to describe. Even when I was in a relationship and had my partner around, -the perfect recipt for a good day (no work, time to make love, nice walks, quiet time e.t.c.) I found the "Sunday Cloud". Many people have Sunday as their preferred day of the week, but, try yourself, when you ask people, Sunday is not the most common day to be favorite. Why? Obviously it's the working week coming up, but surely that can't be all. Is there a religious undertone? What do I know. All I can do to combat sunday blues in getting snug in pyjama in front of the TV. Reading and walking helps too. I just wonder why this day seems twice as long as any other weekday...