Lessons from the universe: Gossipy to gleeful

Okay, so one more post today (sneaky, sneaky… I’m defying my work karma, stealing office minutes to write this. But it’s for the greater good, these posts. The universe will forgive. We’re in cahoots anyway).
This one’s about ­ bad world alert! ­ Bitching. Now I’ve known a few good bitchers in my time. And they compete on an anonymous level. Constantly trying to outdo one another to win the Biggest B of the Century award. And they confuse and perplex me. I can’t understand them. I’m not perfect. I’m just as prone as anyone to my bouts of almost-bitching. But I inhale deeply enough and exhale the bitchiness out of my system. It leaves me in the form of a belly laugh.
It’s important for me to remember that the bitchiness does exist on some level (I still can’t levitate, therefore am not above human emotions). But it’s equally important for me to realise that said bitchiness is one tiny little part of my system, a part which I turn into a joke and soon the bitchiness is long forgotten and replaced by hysterical giggles. Giggles which even penetrate the odd meditation because it’s just so damn funny. And that’s what I wish everyone would do. Turn their negative into a positive. Accept its existence, embrace it even. Embrace it to a point where your fault turns into your ally and works to your universal advantage. The minute you learn to laugh at something, you’ve created a positive right there. Anything that makes you laugh has to be a good thing. And good things can’t be bad. They make you happy. Anything that makes you happy is your tool to inner peace. And laughter is just as good a tool as any. It is the best healer after all. Along with time, patience, love and acceptance.
I love the way he works, my Universe. Doesn’t he just kicks ass and tickle your funny bone at the same time?

A traill of love

Here’s something you could try. Turn around and see who’s closest to you. Give them your biggest smackeroo and a giant of a hug. And mean it. Let it come from your middle. Hug them hard. Hug them tight. And then walk away. Watch them pass on that love to the next person, and them to the person after, and on and on and on. A growing chain of love. A chain you created the first link of. Think of all the lives and all the souls who will be touched by that. Think of how many people will suddenly have a better day because a stranger showed them love.
Our little world needs so much more of that. Random acts of love done for no reason other than to promote a sense of harmony. You’ll create a purple aura of love stretching from one corner of the universe to the other. You will have done that. All you. And you really began your day feeling low and confused??? Are you not aware of the power you have within you? So strong and burning so bright.
T, this is for you. You’re the one person I know right now who would just begin that chain of love without a second thought. You have a gift. You touch hearts everywhere you go. And you don’t even realise it. And that’s your strength.
P.S. Look at how you gave Aywaa the gift of hope. You gave him his wings. Literally.

Hope

I met a stranger on Friday night. Someone who appeared out of nowhere. And did for me something so important, so vital, that even if I never see him again, I will never forget his amazing gift to me. The man gave me hope.
And silly as it might sound, here’s the thing. I love my little Sneaky to heaven and back a kazillion times and more. But little Sneaks, he doesn’t love everyone. My poor little boy is so terrified of people that he ends up terrorizing them instead. It’s a fight or flee instinct, I know that. I respect that. But (the dreaded “but”) as a result, I’m afraid to have people over cause the majority are actually scared of my little Snickers and would rather have an evening without me, than an evening being afraid. Not that there’s anything wrong there. No one wants to feel fear. But it almost got to a point where I didn’t want to call anyone over (except the few good souls who are connected to Sneaky and me). And me being me, it got me thinking, how hard it would be for me to find someone who deserved to be around my dog, someone who wouldn’t threaten him, or make him afraid. I thought it was near impossible. Until Friday night. When a stranger walked in and befriended Snickers in under 2 seconds. I may never see that man again, but he’s given me this massive massive gift, something that he’s so unaware of, which makes it the sweetest present of all. And I know he isn’t alone. I just know now that there are other people out there, soft souls, gentle souls, souls my little Snickers has known in the past, souls that have loved him. And as soon as he finds them in this life, he recognizes them instantly. I forgot about that for a while, while I was busy getting worked up in the here and now about finding friends that Snickers and I can both love, friends who deserve my Sneaky’s love. And the stranger might never be a friend, but he was the opening chapter in a book I had forgotten about. He came in that night to show me it isn’t a lost cause. That there are people out there who’ve never met us before, but are waiting for the right time to enter our lives and to love us the right way. And Snickers won’t be scared because they’ll be gentle with him. He’ll feel them. And day by day, my little boy’s family will keep growing. It’s quite big already, filled with so many people we love to bits. There’s my family ofcourse, who have adopted little Snickers as their grandchild/nephew, there’s LB, T & T, Ollie, Jams, and Gladys. Always Gladys. She’s connected to Snickers in a way only X and me were before. But she came into our lives, and she belonged. And I’m sure there are so many others waiting for us, with us waiting for them. And they’ll come. I know they will. And they’ll be right. They’ll fit. The stranger led the way. An unknown face playing a guest-role in this mega movie. My movie. In which Sneaky remains the eternal star, shining brighter than anyone ever could. The most pure, the most innocent, the most giving, the most loving. Little eyes of trust looking up at me. He’s a tiny little one my Sneaks, but he’s the epitome of love. A giant in every way imaginable.

Magic

Did you know that a blind chameleon still changes colours to match his environment? Proof enough of nature’s miracles?

Something's wrong...

0930

Each day comes with it’s own energy. It’s own vibe. Today scares me. It weakens me. There’s a stronger power lurking somewhere trying to cast a shadow over our beautiful world. I feel it hovering around. Even in colour, I’m seeing gray.

I feel as though I’m floating above the office floor. Seeing everything in slow-motion, in animation, with distorted sounds. Regular people doing regular things, unaware of what lurks just around the corner.

I just want this day to end fast. And well. And for tomorrow to bring back my angels and my confidence in life.

0003

So the day is officially over and it’s been strange to say the least. I felt out of my element, my little Sneaky was behaving differently too. Al came over for a drink, but just mysteriously fell asleep instead. So did Sneaks. In sync with her. Which scares me a little bit. Even meditating in the garden while Snickers slept in the bare sand wasn’t working. I don’t know what it is about today (or yesterday now, as the case is), but something was totally off. I feel its draining energy. I feel its anger. I saw its shadow. I hope it passed with the end of the day. I hope it doesn’t come back.

Waiting for the perfect world

Sometimes I don’t understand people. Correction. A lot of the time I don’t understand people. Take for example this morning. Walking into the place I normally walk into five days a week, I can’t help but look around, make eye contact, exchange a smile or two on my way to the coffee machine, then head to my regular spot, chirpy and happy in the here and now. And you probably know what happens next.
Gloomy faces all around. Sombre expressions telling tales of sorrow and despair. It’s the face I’d adopt if the bodies on this planet abandoned their souls and set about on a quest of hatred. So why such extreme doom and gloom 9am in the morning then? I sat and tried to figure it out. I took a little walk and kept trying to figure it out. Mulled over a coffee desperately trying to find out why. I tried and I tried, and I’m still trying even now.
Why the gloom? Could everyone have gotten out the wrong side of bed this morning? Not that I agree with that term anyway. I mean, what’s the wrong side? A bed’s a bed. It fulfills its mission to give you warmth and comfort upon contact. How can that have the word wrong attached to it in any way? And what's with the word “wrong” in the first place? Who created it? What’s wrong? What’s right? Who decides? Who has the right to? Right, wrong, good, bad, sin, grace… it’s all subjective. It’s all personal.
But I digress. Back to the uncalled for gloom.
… Actually, hang on a tic. I think I want to digress. Not necessarily to being against the concept of wrong, but to anything else. There’s enough pompousness, ego and grumpiness all around as it is, without me adding my energy to the mix by writing about it. Because, by writing about a thing, I’m automatically condoning it, accepting it, allowing it to be, to manifest. Ordinarily, who am I to deny anything its existence, but gloom, ego, anger and jealously … it hurts to even write down those words.
So let’s not. Let’s imagine a perfect world, with little butterflies of hope carrying messages of love. A world where people smile like retards (not the scary smiles though), a world where difference is celebrated, instead of fought over. A world minus war, religion and politics. A world of purple breezes and blue skies. A world without borders. A world rich in colour, where every kid has a reserve 10kg bag of candy, every animal has a loving environment to call home, every plant grows wild and free, every man love the other, every woman stands strong, where prejudices are a thing of the past and people, black, while, brown, yellow, straight, gay, tall, short, rich and poor all stand shoulder to shoulder, creating a circle of love, illuminating the purest of light and living as one.
Bet that made you crack at least the hint of a smile, huh?

My Little Secret

Here’s the thing. And it’s not just a thing. It’s a huge thing. It’s more thing than any thing could ever be. My x factor. My little piece of manna. My light. My love. My peace. My soul. My guiding light. My shoulder to lean on. My all. And it’s there. It’s always there. So near, so far, maybe, maybe not, a possibility, an option, a forever, a never, a missed opportunity, or an old present in new packing. Let’s call this thing-bigger-than-a-thing my certain ne je sais quoi x-factor. Bouncing around. Bouncing in, bouncing out, bouncing back, bouncing away, forever bouncing, forever flying, flitting and fleeing, but like a homing pigeon, always to return, back to a heart that’s home. Always there, but never quite. Far away, but not too far.
What do you call that? Mystery? Confusion? Faith? Belief? Magic? A source of power? Or just nothing. For no name would justify, no stereotype would fit. I’d rather just have an x factor to my life. One that no one can put a finger on. Except me, that is.

Love

You know the cool thing about love?

It never dies. It changes shape and form, it goes from one level to the next, it fades away, plays hide and seek, changes its colours even, but it always come back in one way or another.

If you have love, cliched as it sounds, hold on to it for dear life, but not too tight lest you strangle it with passion, not too loose, less it slip away. Keep it close to your heart, but let it not burn holes, for the flame of love runs deep, scorches nigh and forever alive.

Aywa

Remember the story about the little crow? His name is now Aywa (because that’s the sound he makes). And his daddy is T, my dolphin boy. Awya and T are a duo now. T loves his little Aywa, and I can just feel how much little Aywa heroworships his dad. Isn’t life beautiful? Here were two souls who were destined to meet and the universe put a bunch of people in the right place at the right time to help connect the dots. And that’s what the universe does best, and does in all it’s outlandish universal glory, complete with trumpets blaring and invisible go-go dancers in stilettos and feather boas. Ain’t love grand?

Work Karma

Today is Panadol day in the office. Coincidence that it’s also the first day of the week? Remember what I said about there being no such thing as a coincidence?
But anyway, all the girls at work today gravitated towards my little red Panadol Xtra box. To the point where I’ve just left it out on my desk in the event that someone doesn’t realise I’m the official pill-pusher of the office (And you thought being a journalist was my only job????)
Thinking bout all these girls suffering the Sunday blues got me thinking. Is the concept of coming in to work, following a leisurely, madly, wickedly, crazy weekend, so nightmarish that at the first sign of the office, migranes and headaches start looming large? And if so, why are we in this rat race to begin with? What is it that so compels us to suffer aches and pains emotionally and physically? Why face a day we so desperately don’t want to face? Is it money that’s the motivator? Or fear? Fear of not having money, fear of thinking we will be considered failures if we give up what makes perfect financial sense, fear that we are not good enough to follow our hearts desires? Fear can be a great motivator, if we so allow it to be. But fear-based reinforcement is the worst negative you can add to your life. If you only act out of fear, never will you perform for the simple joy of performing that task. And therein you’ve just lost your biggest battle.
Imagine instead, waking up on Sunday morning, grateful that you’ve woken up, happy to hear the birds chirping, at peace to see the flowers greeting you through your bedroom window. Imagine jumping out of bed, making yourself your favourite breakfast, meditating 10 mins in your little garden, showering with the most luxurious scents you have, putting on your fave clothes, cycling down clear roads, humming your favourite song, ginning insanely at every passerby (especially the ones with their grumpy Sunday faces) and then getting to work 10 minutes ahead of everyone else. Doing a sneaky update on facebook before your boss gets in can also be so immensely satisfying. And don’t worry, you won’t damage your karma for tiny little acts of joy. If anything were to damage your karma, it would be getting in to work grumpy, not doing your job from your heart because you’re angry, pretending to work when you’re actually whiling away the hours staring at the computer, stealing time from your company… that might negate your good karma, but a sneaky little email here and there, a stolen glance at the birdie on your window, five minutes of sitting with your feet up and a fragrant cup of herbal tea will do nothing but elevate your mood and make you appreciate all the tiny pleasures life doles out to those willing to receive.

La Luna

Something about the full moon and no moon affects me. Every single time. Every single month. Today we won’t see our moon. It will be far far away from our eyes and I miss it’s warmth already. It does strange things to me the moon, or lack of it. Now, normally, I’m not a water person. One of my greatest fears includes dying in a body of water. And yet, that’s all I want today. To surround and immerse myself in water. I want to feel its cool waves pushing up against me, smell its aroma all around, go with its flow. I close my eyes and I see an ocean of blue. I blink and for a split second I’m the queen of the sea. I sit here on my mac and I can hear the water consuming me. A delight to every sense. The source of all my fears turned into a craving for pleasure. And that’s what happens to me when the moon leaves my side for a day. She forces me to explore my other side. Without her by me, I’m forced to face my fears. And she leaves me in the dark, knowing I have the strength to turn pain into pleasure, if just given a chance. So here it is. Here’s my chance. And even though my little villa doesn’t have a pool, I’ll sit there in the bathtub with bubbles to replace the waves and aromatherapy oil to transport me to my sea. And I’ll celebrate the moon for all her glory and wait for her to flow full and strong 2 weeks from now.
You see, when people see me, they see but the surface. Little do they know my alliance for Luna, Mr Universe, my angels and all the beauty that comes with it. Knowing the Muby that lives within is a privilege few ever have the patience to find out. Those who do, are in my soul forever.

To work or to live? That is the question...

Ever had one of those super hungry days? Where you’d be able to eat a horse, if only you didn’t throw up and die at the concept of eating a horse? Yeah, today’s my I’m-gonna-eat-for-the-world day. And what makes it worse is that I have two boxes of what I hope is gobble-it-down-because-its-so-good pasta sitting on my desk, just asking to fulfill it’s mission of strengthening and giving nutrition to Jams and me. But here I am. At work. Obliged to work. And no lunch break in sight for at least another hour. Or at all (shudder!), this being deadline day and all. Sneaky eh, that this blog entry then manifested out of thin air…
Anyway, it got me thinking, should life revolve around work, or work revolve around life? I’d love to hear from you.
Thing is, if my entire life revolved around work, then wouldn’t work be a part of my life anyway? And if it was a part of my life, it would obviously be the most important part as it would be the sun around which my world revolved. And if work became the most important part of my life, what does that say about my life? That I live to work? I live so that I can make money? I kill my dreams and desires because I’m afraid of not being normal and not working? To fit into the majority, I have to work and allow it to consume me, heart and soul?
You know what that would make me? Not alive. And the entire argument would be a moot point, because if I’m not alive, how could I live to work anyway?

Sometimes it really does go your way

Every once in a while, you get to indulge in your most favourite person. And the earth begins to rock, clouds form little patterns and doggie wags his tail with joy.

You know who you are,
You know what you do.
I’m still not sure why you do what you do,
But I’m just glad you do.
It sucks when you don’t,
But I still make do.
For you see,
with or without you,
I’m still me,
I’ll still be,
We’ll still be.
You’ll see.

Angels

I met an angel yesterday. Actually I met two. Julie and Argus. They radiated love and light. They were beautiful, illuminating and warm. They gave me peace.
I also met another 2 angels that night. One was an earth angel. The other a symbol of love. How lucky can a girl get?

James

The blog’s gaining popularity. People are talking, brains are buzzing, souls are searching. I’m getting feedback on what makes sense and what ticked who off. Apparently the War entry wasn’t the most appreciated. Moz wants revenge for tainting James’ words. I need to make peace. James didn’t say “the best way towards peace is by preparing for war” (see the War entry). He said “the way to secure peace is to prepare for war”. Big difference huh? He still said prepare for war. But that’s just my opinion. Form your own. That’s what the world needs more of. People with their own opinion. Not blind followers of years and centuries of propaganda and ass-wipe. So Moz, I don’t agree with James. But respect for having an opinion.

X

X, here's to you. Dream.

Time

So maybe I'm an addict now. I can't seem to stop. Adrenaline flows through my veins, my brain buzzes, my heart beats faster. This blog is consuming me. And I love her for it. She's my bff, my voice, my heart. Someday it will reach you. If you're reading this, it already has. If not, there's time. Nothing happens overnight. Although some things do. But what's time anyway? It's relative. A night spent in tears is longer than a year on cloud nine. Time's just what you make it to be.

Nerves, the universe, butterflies in your middle and so much more

You know that feeling. The one where butterflies are doing their little dance in your stomach. You’re nervous, you’re neurotic, you’re on the edge. And it goes against everything you think and believe, but sometimes the heart is stronger than the head.

It’s been one of those days. You know, when you do everything possible to run from a situation, but the universe, in it’s own charming way, turns the wheels so that regardless of what you do to avoid a certain thing, that very thing will hit you in the face no matter where you’ve gone to avoid it. But then through all the mess and muck, something inanely stupid makes you laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all. Humans thinking of themselves as wily foxes, sneaking their way through situations, thinking we’re smarter than everything else, above it all even (pardon the pun). And then there’s the universe, sitting on the top floor of the Burj that poor Babu is trying so hard to finish, laughing at our little ways, thinking we’ve outsmarted him, when instead, he’s holding the strings all along, and like the fidgety butterflies, is making us dance to his tunes. He did tell me though, that a long, long time ago, way before we made our way here, we made him promise to do exactly what he’s doing right now, so that we’ll eventually get to where we wanted to be before we even came here. It is a conspiracy theory of sorts, but one that we’ve masterminded ourselves.  The point here? There’s no point in running away from your self-created situations. You might as well face them head on because regardless of what you do, or don’t do, you’ll still get to where you wanted to be, walking down the very path you once created for yourself. And oh, if you could only hear what all the angels up there are saying about you, you’d get a swollen head the size of a football field. It’s your life, you decided this way, way back. And don’t worry, you’re moving in the exact direction you knew you would be at this point in your life. Bravo, I’d say. Or as my friend Johnny would say, Keep Walking.

War

I have this friend called Moz. He’s my bro’s bestest. But more of their tirades later. Moz just said to me that the best way towards peace is to prepare for war. His friend James told him that. I don’t know about that. Or maybe I do, James. Preparing for war, means keeping the notion of war in your head. And keeping a notion of anything in your head means attracting that very element into your life. What will happen is the universe will bring war unto you, since you’re putting all your energy into the very word. Why else James, do you think there’s all this fighting everywhere? Because the world, in it’s hastiness to attract peace through war, has brought war to itself.

The x factor

Butterflies in a stomach that's otherwise rock hard
A little head perched atop stilts
Muddy pools to drown in
Indifference to chill your soul
Fire to warm your heart
An unspoken dream
That marked the start
Of the end

On the wings of dreams

The universe sent me an email today. Here's what he said:

You know what makes the darkest of times bearable, Muby?Remembering that it's all illusions, in a dreamed-up world, where angels earn their wings, thoughts dress up as things, and that "somewhere back home," you lie safely in bed, in the palm of my hand, snuggled up tight with some big, fluffy stuffed animal.
Nice wings,
The Universe
P.S. I do love watching you sleep Muby

Don't that make you wanna go 'yeehah', click your heels, and do a little jig of joy, while you breathe a sigh of relief. And your heart tells your head that it knew all along that you'd be just fine. That flowers grow for a reason. The grass is green to your eyes only. The trees stand tall and proud, sheltering you with their love. And the universe, in all his michevious glory, does indeed hold your hand every night, while you're in la-la land.

Get out the box

So I wasn’t always a child of peace and love. Even though I actually was from within, phases in my life, I totally was without. Like the time I met The Goth One, or The Conservative One. Or The Vengeful One. I buried my inner hippie and tried my hand at being dark, or conservative, and even – shocker – angry. Wow, did it ever suck. Those were experiments I’m so glad are over.

Can you imagine what it’s like to wake up every morning and be forced to curse the world and everyone and everything around you, “because the world made you that way” or “because it’s cool to be emo.” Or open your wardrobe and wear black, day in and day out, like a uniform from the days of communism, because that’s what Goths do. Isn’t that sorta like what Hitler was trying to do as well? Put people into brackets? The KKK all wore white and hoods. The Jews had bells on their arms. Or what about the Afghan women who all wear the same oversized sack? Or the too-delicate-to-mention Taliban who sport the same facial hair? Aren’t these the very groups society is trying to erase from time immemorial (which to our self-centered generation is the last 50-odd years)?

So what makes it so cool for people to work overtime to put themselves into categories (and by categories I mean everything from cults and groups to religions and nationalities, but that’s a different blog altogether)? Is it to stand out from everyone else? Or is it because they want to blend in with others like them?

Being free will allow you to do both. You will stand out for being you (it’s more than just my new-age hippie lark at work here. Science has proved that no two people are ever identical). You will also blend in because you’ll be so in-tuned with yourself and at one with the universe, that you’ll feel at home everywhere.

Going back to our emo-lot, who walk around proclaiming the world is against them, no-one gets it, I’ll pour out my emotions in dark poetry, disturbing artwork and an upside down smile till the end of time. Yeah right! What about waking up and kissing the person (or animal in my case) next to you with a huge silly grin on your face? Humming a little tune while brushing your teeth, hugging all the trees in your yard, especially the babies, who, like babies everywhere, need some extra love? Sitting on your favourite couch with a blueberry yoghurt crush, so happy that the couch continues to keep itself comfy for you, and the berries are fulfilling their purpose of strengthening you.

Wouldn’t that feel better than the routine of wakeup, grumpy... get dressed, grumpier... get to work, introverted and secretly abusing everyone around you... after-work drink with fellow unhappy souls, bitch about the unfairness of time and space, how the black hole is symbolic of our lives, how man will destroy himself for the greater good of helping Satan achieve his mission… blah blah blah. Because that’s all that it really is. Blah.

And trust me when I say blah attracts more blah.

And life attracts life.

And attraction attracts even more attraction. As does love.

To get love, you first need to feel love. To feel love, you need to be love. The minute you turn into a walking, talking, breathing personification of love (just like that red flower you passed on your way home and failed to even notice in your rush to get somewhere), you will attract it into your life in ways you’d never imagine. The sky will show you love by becoming that special shade of I-Love-You blue, the birds will be singing you a love song at least once a day if you take the time out to hear them, flowers will bloom in their prettiest colours for you, animals will wag their tails at you, people will be drawn to you like magnets, the grass will appear greener, the silence will feed your soul like never before, heck, even the stuff you’re forced to eat in your office canteen will make itself tastier for you. Because that’s the power of love. And it’s so easy to attract into your life. Kinda makes you feel sorry for Goth, Vengeful, Conservative, and all the others who just can’t get it. And this is an easy one. What will they do with the big ones such as “what should I wear tomorrow,” or “do I want pizza or pasta for dinner tonight”.

Spread the love.

M

Ode to Sneaks

By now if there’s anything you’ve learnt about me, it’s my respect for the universe, my disrespect for manmade shite and my bordering-on-obsession love for my dog, which by the way is a two-way street. Little Sneaky is also obsessively obsessed with me. So this bog entry was just waiting to happen. Here it is.

 

An Ode To Snickers

 

He’s the reason

I wake up every morning

The reason I fall asleep exhausted

My reason for trying

For moving on

Even with baby steps

For he feeds off me

My happiness becomes his

My sorrow, his own.

Adoration in his eyes

A sneaky twitch of his nose

Little paws going pitter-patter

Like raindrops on the floor

He follows me around

Eyes wide with trust

And I’ll protect him

And shelter him

Always do the best I can

For I love him

In a way brand new

Like a child

But more.

My tiny little love

My tiny little puppy

The Crow

A wise friend once told me, there are no coincidences in life. It’s all signs from the universe that you’re on the right track.
Thanks N.
The universe just proved him right. Thursday morning meeting. Everyone with their plastic smiles and over-enthusiastic enthusiasm. I sit there watching Jam making beautiful henna designs on paper (for which she got pulled up, instead of praised for her creative skills). Anyway, Ed suddenly asks if anyone could fill in for him on a cover shoot at DIFC. Now although walking around in the 45 degree heat isn’t my idea of fun, something made me sit up and say I wanted to do it. As soon as I said it, I was disgusted with myself for volunteering. Heck, I was in my Kenneth Cole silk blouse today. Why the hell did I ask to walk around in the sun getting photos of DIFC?
But the die had been cast, and off to DIFC it was. Two minutes into the drive and we pulled over for a little bird who was trying to cross the street. Little boy couldn’t fly and his mouth was wide open. He might have been dehydrated, or injured. I wasn’t sure. We moved him to a safe spot for his mum to find him while S and I went off on our assignment. Two hours later, he was still there, and no mum in sight any more. Soon enough the little crow made history by being the first birdie in our office.
To cut the story short, my favourite dolphin boy (okay, so there’s two of them, not just one) came to the rescue and took him home for some TLC.
And why did I even bother to tell you this story? To make a point. To make N’s point actually. There are no coincidences.

The weekend!

Came in to work this morning, dazed and confused as usual, but on a blog high. As luck would have it, I felt the sudden urge to show off my newly-formed bit of online joy (I might be on my way to becoming a blogaddict). Anyway, the only person who showed a glimmer of interest was B, who then proceeded to emotionally blackmail me for not writing on my blog that it was his blog that inspired me to make mine. So here you go B. Revel in all your manipulative glory.
B, aside, don’t you just love-hate that Thursday feeling? You know, the weekend’s almost here, yay! But then the working day just freaking drags. And then sudden joy! It’s 6pm and you’re done for the week. But oh oh! Panic sets in. The weekend looms long and large. Everyone seems to have a plan. Everyone but you that is. Then begin the frantic calls to everyone you know, or have ever known, lest you remain the only soul in the city who hasn’t done something randomly, inanely, unfulfillingly, party-hardy like.
For everyone who doesn’t have a weekend plan, or even the mojo to face another weekend alone, here’s plan B. Make no plans. Breathe. Sit in your garden (or terrace). Play with your dog. Or Cat. Or gerbil. Or bird. Or fish. Or yourself for all we care. Talk to yourself (or said dog/cat/bird, etc). Put on your party shoes, funk up to Prince, and dance with your eyes closed. Live the moment. Enjoy the solitude. Attract life.
The phone’s gonna ring the second you’ve switched off from waiting for it to ring. That’s the way my friend the universe works. Ask, put it out there, pretend it’s yours, then forget all about it. You’ll get it eventually. Trust me.

Meet Me

So here's a bit about me. I live with my dog in a house we love. Ask me to choose the house or the dog, Snickers would win hands down. No contest. The house is for him. I just happen to live there too.

That's about the most important thing you need to know about me. That and the fact that I have a best friend. His name is the Universe and we love each other to bits. I don't ask, he gives, I ask, he gets a bit pricey every now and then, but I know he'll eventually give in.

Outside of that, there's nothing terribly important I need to share with you right now. We've only just met. I did say earlier that I'm a writer, which is true. Except that for the moment it's only commercial writing (pays the rent for the doggie's house) for a magazine. I won't tell you which one, less a journalist be accused of giving anyone free advertisement, but safe to say it's one big-ass newspaper that we work under. Or so they say.

Hey

Despite being a 21st century girl, despite living in the city (well, not really living, but working, anyway), despite being a writer, despite religiously keeping a diary... despite all those despites, I've never started my own blog.
But it's never to late. Ever.