Life Quest (and other stuff)

WARNING: Excessive use of the word: "Fuck". Found this on a friend's blog yesterday and immediately felt it had to be shared with the world. So off to Twitter I bounced. Except that sending the tweet was harder than I initially thought. If you where brave, and clicked the link above, you would have realised that the "joke" is based on an understanding of WTF - or then, What The Fuck. So when tweeting the link, I was going to put down "What The Fuck" and the link. Except that I couldn't get myself to do it. My fingers refused to add the u.c.k after the F. Now please understand that I do not have a problem with others using "fuck" and will personally use it in a sentence probably at least once a day. (The sentence being: "Fuck!") I know it is not the politest of words, but then again, we don't use it to be nice. That said, other than being crude, there is technically nothing wrong with saying "fuck." It is not a sin...

“Writing is like prostitution. First you do it for love, and then for a few close friends, and then for money.” - Moliere I came across this quote in this past week and it immediately grabbed my attention. I guess it felt especially relevant since I recently started whoring my writing. In a way that is why I started this blog. To keep it pure. Uninfluenced by "what sells" and rather driven by something deeper: verbal diarrhoea. A place where I can spew, well, anything. Yet I am wondering about the statement. Does Moliere state that because we sell, we cannot love? Or can we love while making a buck on the side? And don't you just love how "friends" sits smack bang between love and money. But there are (as usual) two (at least) sides to this tale. If I love, I want to do more with that love and somehow that "doing more" usually ends up with some form of remuneration. Let's look at an example: I love to paint. I paint all the time. I end up with a 10...

Okay, okay. So being happy is so far a resolution I seem to be able to mostly keep. But ya know, it's a pretty big resolution. So I decided to have a few smaller ones. One of them, more by necessity than exact choice, is to be better with plants. Hubbie and I planted the first crops of our new veg and herb garden (nope, not an euphemism), which means that if I would like to live the dream of eating a homemade pizza topped with homemade veggies and herbs, I better get all green fingery. Not something I am by birth. But that aside, my resolution for February is this: Sexy sleepwear. Stop looking so confused. Sexy sleepwear. I know that hubbie will love me always and always, purple nighty covered in teddy bears and all, but I want to feel sexier. Do you remember that scene in Memoirs of a Geisha where she made the chap fall off his bicycle with a single look? Now I'm not looking to make people fall off anything, but as cute as my teddy bears are, not very empowering...

On Sunday night I met up with some friends to have silly conversations and eat too much sushi (if there is such a thing). At some point the conversation got serious. My friend across the table from me stated that turning 40 in a few weeks time actually is a big thing for her. That "40" is really the first time an age seems to matter. Of course, I'll be turning 30 about 2 weeks earlier, and although I don't see it as old, I do ask myself what I have to show for it. And now, after a fun (partly serious) evening with old (that's long-time) friends, I suddenly feel like an idiot for asking. What do I need to show? Do I want to sky-dive or climb Kilimanjaro? I have sky-dived and my sister climbed that specific mountain, so I guess that's covered. Do I want to be famous? Well, 2 (maybe even 3) people read this blog, so close enough. Do I want to be rich? Sure. But why this drive to say: "well done" and give ourselves a gold star? Do we really need to be th...

Yesterday I stood astonished at how stupid people can be, today I am amazed at what my 1 year old can do . Although, I must admit, when reading dorothy black's post yesterday, I did feel a bit useless. I mean seriously, how much does a 13 year old need to accomplish? But after a few moments of simply "giving up" and contemplating in which corner it would be the best to sit and wallow in my sorrows, I was suddenly filled with new motivation for my life quest. This morning I vacuumed my home office, great things must be coming. Can you feel it?

Today is one of those days. So rather than rant on about how stupid people can be, how I hate to be made out the bad guy, and how sometimes I wish I had the power to put everything around me in suspended animation and just SCREAM, I am just gonna stop.