Infatuation contagious

Last week my mom came to see me. When I got home after work I noticed (well, it was impossible not to) that there was something wrong with the way she walked-slowly and limping slightly. It turned out that on the way to the apartment she tripped over a hole in the sidewalk and fell. Luckily she got away only with a twisted ankle and bruises but nothing’s broken. But as she sat on the couch all drooping and apparently still in pain I felt sorry for her and tried to cheer her up so for the next half an hour the living room became a catwalk and I paraded with each peace of rag I had bought for the past couple of months. The mere fact I had embarked on shopping was already a surprise for her but she was genuinely shocked by my new choice of style-feminine, eye-catching and even err, seductive. She absolutely approved but was curious to know what had triggered the change. That’s how I got to act 2 of the entertainment-I told her about my latest obsession with IAMX and their gig in Prague that I had wanted so much to go to and since I hadn’t made it and saved my bank account the travel expenses I had decided to spend those money anyway and do me some good. And then I asked if she was curious to hear a song from that band; “Why not?” she said. I took my SONY MDR-XD 100 (the best headphones ever!) and the mp3 player and played (of course) “This will make you love again”. When the song was over she asked for some more and I played a few more songs. It was already quite late so we had to call it a night but she insisted to have all IAMX albums so she could listen to them and I was more than happy to oblige :) She said it’d been long since she last had liked something so much. Me too, mom, me too.

“So that’s the band you wanted to go and see live.”

“Yes, that’s the band.”

“You should’ve gone.”

Damn, I know I should’ve. 

Check, please

I woke up with my ears popping, sore throat and the firmness of a jelly-fish. Sick?! I can’t afford to be sick-not when each day seems like my last day at least. Did I push too hard my capacity for vigour yesterday and burnt out all my vital resources? It’s possible-when you catch a good wave you just enjoy the ride and getting off is the last thing on your mind. Anyway, yesterday felt so good that the price seems fair.

I heard this in a movie “Make pain your teacher, not your master”. It sounded familiar-like something I’ve figured out for myself already. If you can’t beat them, join them. Perseverance is a virtue but stubbornness is not-the sooner you learn to make the difference, the better.

Redecoration

It’s fun to explore my feminine power-fun, surprising, invigorating…and with a slight touch of disappointment.  I knew image was important and yet… Hmm. A pair of high heels and tight jeans and all of a sudden my existence in this world is acknowledged-as if I have bought a VIP ticket allowing me access to the backstage of life. To my astonishment the masquerade works. What I find even stranger is that the warmth of the limelight feels cozy to bathe into.  Does that make me shallow? Taken out of context I suppose that my newly developed fling with vanity could be referred to as shallowness. I, however, being a key ingredient of the background would call it catching up with the playfulness and the carefree state of mind of youth whose show is drawing to its end and the curtains are about to come down so it is now or never. Shallow and exhilarated or profound and miserable? I don’t have time for wrong choices. 

My first little black dress

And no, it doesn’t come with a complementary whip. I'm in love with it.

Taking a note

Fear doesn’t pay. One of those simple things you get to learn the hard way.  

The beautiful people

Beauty builds up on many levels and eye-pleasing physical appearance is a good but neither solid enough nor self-sufficient ground. It’s always helpful to have a backup plan for the rainy days that eventually come for everyone. Not to mention that it seems more reasonable to invest in longer-lasting assets. 

The Chauffeur

It strikes me that Chris Corner’s singing live sounds as equally fantastic as on records. Great performance. Simon Le Bon seems a bit uncomfortable sharing the song with that particular voice.

To have and to hold

One of the girls I work with (there’s 5 of us in the room, we’re all over 30 but we’ll always be girls, alright?) is nuts about astrology and she thinks it is her mission to share her knowledge on the moon and the stars and all the other visible and non-visible celestial bodies filling the cosmos to the benefit of her ignorant colleagues. So a few days ago, based ob birth date and hour, she made for each one of us a romantic forecast i.e. it was focused on the relationships and marriages destined for us. Frankly speaking I was hoping she would lose interest until my turn came but, alas!, it was not in my stars to be skipped. Her verdict, announced aloud for everybody present to hear, was that a) I have a tendency for secret affairs (umm, not entirely incorrect) and b) I will marry twice (?!) but it’ll happen somewhere later in my life, in the distant future. OK, let me play with the idea. Such a scheme perfectly suits my preference to live free as a bird and when there will be nothing else left for me to amuse myself with then, who know, I might (just might) try that out as well; just to make sure I haven’t miss anything significant.

Huh, what a nonsense. I will never understand why people make such a fuss about marriage. What I want is fireworks and butterflies tickling inside my belly, I want to be lost in the feeling but to be lost with The One (or else why bother?), I want a higher ground to walk on, I want to be so happy I’d want to be me, just me and no one else. And I absolutely don’t see what that has to do with marriage. 

Word game

I got “patient, genuine, peaceful, restless”. One of them is somewhat flattering so I have to hold my peace about it but the other three fit me like a glove.

The craving

Must be wonderful to free yourself out of the box in your mind, to know there are limits but to roam over them, to be back to the childish delusion that everything is possible.