Tuesday, October 19, 2010


8 people have died from my school class. One of which was my best friend since i was 4, she died 11 years ago, she was 19.

one died from a jet ski accident
4 in car crashes
one from diabetes
one didnt wake up
and lastly, one from cancer

Its so shocking and sad. They were all so young, it fills me with fear. Fear for my loved ones, pure raw fear. Fear and sadness.

Tuesday, October 05, 2010


I have turned into a workaholic
I am so tired, but i can't stop
I do everything else in between
Except making love
That is the only time i completely disconnect
And collapse in the arms of my man
It feels like i am working for my livelihood
for my sanity
for my existence
when all i want to do deep inside
is have kids and walk barefoot in the sand

this life is passing too quickly
time passes so slowly when you are waiting for something to happen
and when you are finally done waiting
it flies

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

The Writer in Me

I am never happier than when i am writing. It is the one thing i can do for hours on end, it is the one thing i can for hours on end and lose all sense of time.
It is the one thing i do that gives me energy, not takes energy away from me. After the hours on end i am left so energized, i could start a whole new day.
I have always wanted to be a writer, i have always wanted to be published. First it was poetry, then it was prose, then it was short pieces, and then came blogging.
Blogging for me was so beneficial, on so many levels. Blogging was my first venture into receiving feedback on my writing. Every positive comment i got was elevating and self assuring, my favorites coming from insomniac, Juka and faisal :) The reassurance that i actually could write, was the most rewarding i have ever received.
Blogging was as well to me a self exploration process. If you have been a follower of this blog you would know just how personal it can get. I was not always so readily expressive. I used to be tied up in taboos and self denial. Maxxed out could attest to that, the one that got me try out blogging to begin with. I was very very closed up and defensive. This blog offered me a medium where i could talk about love, sex, death, religion and so much more...

Back in feb, when i realized i hated every aspect of my job, i thought the time had finally came for me to find a way to write for a living, or get into an industry where i could get closer to writing. I shortlisted all the publishing companies and bookstore chains and targeted them all.
There was no room there for an established manager with relatively high salary expectations. I had to ask myself just how willing i was to take a pay cut... I wasn't very willing, with marriage and kids and mortgages on the horizon, it would not have been very smart of me.
So i resigned myself to doing something i loved, but was not necessarily in love with, and started looking into working with houses - a love i realized when i was making up my own house.
So Sunday i start my new career in something i am very excited in working with.
But now remains the writing issue. I must write. I was born to write, and as i hit 30, i must start realizing that dream as well.

A lot of you bloggers write as well, do you have ideas how i could start this journey?
Have any of you written books and published them? Do share your experiences in this safe haven of a space, i really would love to get started...

Thank you in advance....


New Beginnings

After three years and a half, i have left my job. I am no longer a senior manager in retail, i am no longer the person people go to when they need help, i am no longer doing a million things across a million functions, i no longer exist in the company to solve problems.
Starting Sunday, i am a middle manager in another industry. I am doing one specific thing, i am doing my favorite thing in all the things i have done. I have switched industries and careers all in one go. I am now part of a successful growing company, a leading company in its field, and i am a level 4 not 6. There are two people between me and the CEO. My boss and my boss's boss. I look forward to working at my desk with earphones in my ear marketing away.... for slightly better pay in a much better and healthier working environment.

I am anxious, i am excited, i am elated, i am a fish out of water; i am happy.

I have put a down payment on a beach chalet. its really a 2 bedroom apartment, 95m. My last 3500 EUR savings from France went into the first installment, and i am broke till end of year to pay back the money i needed for the second installment. It's my dream come true :) my house at the beach.

I will be 30 in two weeks. Thirty. THIRTY. It is terrifying, such unfamiliar territory... Officially grown up... in my head i am still 27. Really. I am thinking about having kids in the next few years.. i am married. I swear i do not know when it all happened. 9 month married after tomorrow.

Everything is new, i have a new home with an olive wall and a red wall - not in the same room i assure you - and contemporary furniture that i picked piece by piece. I cook for two and wash men's clothes.

A new home, a new job, a new beach house, a new decade ahead.

And i will finally start writing again, i had been so unhappy in my last job, and so busy doing all of these grown up things.

I have a slight suspicion that parts of me changed along the way.. or maybe i just don't know how to be me and be married at the same time, so much of me was about my stories in love... now love is all about sharing movies and dates and chores and funny banter... now love is so stable, there is no drama to channel my intensity through...

It's sort of exciting to see how i will manage to stay me in this docile role..

New beginnings....

Saturday, January 30, 2010

The Rest of My Life

I want to write for the rest of my life.
I want to write a book. A clever book that is insightful that you can't put down.
I want to write a book about people, and what they have to get through just by being people.
I want to start my own magazine. I want to rent a studio, paint it in bright colors and turn it into a buzzing magazine mania. And when i have kids i want to take them to work with me.

I am sick of being employed. I am loathsome of the business world. The top line, the bottom line, the expansion strategy, the development path, the remuneration strategy, the flip side, the product mix, the aging report, the positioning, the branding.

I want to write. I want to switch to mac and write in my terrace.

I hate money.

Monday, January 25, 2010

Ordinary Love Story - Tribute to K'

It was era's ago. I still wore baggy shirts and took my own notes.
It was two years before we spoke, two years of playing cards every day, a group of four, two of four.
We shared a hand, then shared a laugh, we were inseparable, at the card table that is.
I fell in anguish with his friend, he fell in need-fullness with a girl in my class. A new group of four, those were fun times.
I graduated, he graduated. He wore a band, my heart got crushed, unrelated incidents at the time.
I left the country, he drove me to the plane, he held my hand, he was my friend.
My heart got butchered, his girl left him for more cash. I picked up the pieces, we found comfort in picking up each others pieces. He was my best friend.
He took me to and from every plane that touched home. Little words, no touches save for twice in ten years, the touch of a hand when i left home and when my heart got butchered.
No kisses on the cheeks, no hugs, no looks. He was my bestest friend.
I fell in lust, i let myself ride the wind, i went here and there and let my hair down. Then i went home. He picked me up and took me home.
I lost faith, i swore off the whole thing, i was done. He was the only man i believed. He was my truest ever friend.
He waited. A while. A very little while. He spoke, he wanted, he saw, he knew.
A risk, two friends, of years and years. So much trust, so much love, so many pieces picked up along the way.
It was 6 months before i hugged him back. It was a 100 i love yous before i felt it too. It was a million reassurances before i could really give it a chance.
It was mostly hard for a very long time.

Today, we both smell like our washing detergent. I do not cook if he is not eating with me. I do not sleep if he is not next to me. I cannot sit far away from him. I cannot tolerate the thought of harm to him. My hands find him before i tell them to. My lips reach for him while i am half asleep. My heart goes to him whenever i am away from him. I am as he sees me. I am lovable because he loves me. I am good because he believes in me. I am safe because he is still my best friend. My truest ever friend.

I do not know how long it will last. A month, a year, a lifetime... I do know that today, we both believe it can last forever, and want it to. As naive as that is.

A tribute to you Kaf, may your doubts get overshadowed by your idealism, and may your heart leap in faith despite yourself.

Love you,