Holiday!

This morning, after a week long hiatus, in which my body came crashing down around me, I am back at the gym getting myself whipped into something that Santa may just slip under someone’s Christmas tree, eliciting ooohs and aaahs from the happy recipient. Hard to believe that there are only 8 weeks left in this year and suddenly I feel the pressure to go out and get my aluminium Christmas tree which I will decorate with poodles of assorted colors, thus showing just how hip and happening one person can be. But first things first…

I need to go on holiday and so have been peeking around here and there, looking for the right destination. Why is it that there only seem to be vacations with pictures of scantily clad honeymooners or some ugly family bonding over the all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet? What about those of us who do not fit into either scene but who also do not want to lower our standards to the level of an EasyCruise? EasyJet is one thing, EasyCruise is something else. There are only so many sunburnt British any one person should be subjected to in a 12 month period, and believe me, I have reached my quota for this year.

The problems with holidays is that there are so many decisions to make. City or nature? Beach or mountains? Which continent? Romance or sex? Rest or total sensory deprivation? It is all just too overwhelming at times and I find myself wondering if I should just not stay home. Currently on my preferred list of places to go are: Istanbul, Tel Aviv, Athens, Nice, Ferrara, Barcelona, Morocco and Iceland. I just can’t decide what to do or if I am going to do it alone or with someone… Anybody up for a holiday?

Wash My Hands... Wash My Hands...

So much going on, I hardly know where to begin. I know, let’s start with one of my favorite subjects, performing arts…

The Cadance is a bi-annual modern dance festival that is currently underway in The Hague. Last night I went to the premiere of ‘Bespoken’ which was choreographed by my friend Paul and I thought it was amazing. I can only imagine how it must feel to see your own creativity and imagination take form on stage and it was so nice to see a beaming Paul after the performance. I had seen him perform several weeks ago in a production called ‘The Finalisten’. That was the first time I had seen him dance and I was amazed to see this side of my friend that I had only ever heard about.

I have just come back from having a coffee with Paul and telling him just how amazing I thought the performance was. He is one of those people that in a very short time became very important in my life. He has been a constant source of support, the occasional shoulder and a great sushi partner. Whenever Paul hears even the slightest dip in my mood, it is off for sushi or coffee and a long talk. He has that rare gift of asking just the right questions - even if they are not the questions I want to hear or answer – and cutting right to the heart of an issue. I can only hope I am as good of a friend as he has been to me.

After coffee with Paul, I stopped by DOM to see what was new in the world of funky and fun household fashion and I have discovered the must have accessories for this holiday season. Black mirrored disco balls, silver aluminium Christmas trees, glitter candles in assorted colors and hot pink garland. This just may be the year to have a ‘Trailer Park Christmas’ complete with the appropriate beverages.

Speaking of appropriate beverages, Nik and I were brainstorming the other day about opening up a cocktail bar in Brussels and we came up with the perfect idea. We want to convert an old church into a loungy place serving fabulously mixed cocktails with religious names… Imagine slinking up to the bar to order a ‘Virgin Mary’, ‘Immaculate Conception’ or the soon to be popular ‘No Room at the Inn’ from a muscled bartender wearing little more than white angel wings or horns. Naughty or nice, there will definitely be something for everyone. Of course, there will be more black mirrored disco balls than should be legal in any one place and we will let only the most fabulous people in. Nik will be our very own St. Peter of the black velvet rope and will hand-pick the lucky devils who will be allowed access to our fashionable sanctuary. Marco will be our Deified DJ, spinning all types of sinfully delightful beats to keep everyone in a heavenly mood. My job will be to keep everything properly lit as I truly believe that the secret to a great anything is proper lighting. Do you think Miss Evangelista would be as fantastically fabulous if she were to stumble into some poorly thought out second rate lighting?

After DOM, I stopped by the American Book Store for one of life’s essentials, Vanity Fair magazine. No sooner had I bought this issue with George Clooney on the cover than I saw the cover for next month's issue. A wet Brad Pitt in his undies and holding a gun. Supposedly Mr. Angelina Jolie is unhappy about the use of an ‘unauthorized’ picture but I say bring it on and keep it coming. Unless of course they can get Freddie Ljundberg nude on the cover. Demi, Scarlett and Keira have all been naked on the cover, but why is it always the women? What this world needs is a good dose of pecs and abs. Why should evangelical leaders get to have all the fun?

Now onto yet another favorite topic of mine, arrogant leaders who wrap themselves in morality while swimming in the sea of sin. Maybe it’s just me, but this whole Ted Haggard issue seems to be a replay of Bill’s “I did not have sex with that woman” speech. First he denies even knowing the guy and then he admits he went to him for a massage, but what exactly he got massaged is open for debate and then he says that he did buy methamphetamines but got rid of them very quickly but didn’t use them. Is that going to be the new “I smoked pot in college but I didn’t inhale”? I can hear it all now in the next elections, “I secretly snorted highly addictive drugs that reduce sexual inhibitions in a dingy hotel room with a homosexual prostitute but then I sneezed.” I read on Wikipedia that meth users “may become obsessed or perform repetitive tasks such as cleaning, handwashing or assembling and dissembling objects” and I wonder what Mr. Haggard did while not under the influence. Hasn’t he learned anything from Whitney? Perhaps he should stop by our bar and order a "Hail Mary".

Well, I have other things than an evangelical leader’s fall from grace to keep myself occupied today . I have decided to embrace my inner Bree van de Kamp and do a bit of washing, dusting and vacuuming. I know, I am as shocked by my flagrant and unexpected display of domesticity as you are. Hey, did someone slip me some meth while I wasn’t looking?

Well, I am off to wash my hands… wash my hands… wash my hands…

Winter

I hate this time of year, when the weather turns colder, the sky is painted in shades of Michelangelo and there are so many more hours of dark than light. I always have a difficult time making the adjustment into winter and today is one of those days when it just seems to hit a bit harder than usual. Like Sade sings, “it’s just a day that brings it all about, just another day and nothing’s any good.” Hopefully tomorrow will be better. After all, tomorrow is another day.

Black And White

This morning, I woke up as I usually do, showered, dressed, looked in the mirror and marveled at how good I looked and stormed out the door to work like every other weekday. Except this wasn’t every other weekday. There I was, crossing the street in front of the office when I looked down and to my horror saw two different shoes on my feet. And not two kind of different shoes where I could imagine making such a mistake, but they were so different that there is no possible way this could have happened. There I was with one sleek white Bikkembergs sneaker and one clunky black Prada shoe. The realization that not only had I walked from my house to the tram stop, sat on the bus for 20 minutes and then walked from the bus station to the office in total ignorance of my early display of Alzheimer’s, but I would have to do the journey in reverse and hope that nobody noticed. I tried to restructure my DNA so that nobody would know it was me and I ran into a colleague of mine who had a huge laugh at my expense. I will get you back one day… Just wait! On my way back home, I scanned the streets looking for others who shared my pain but obviously the coordination gods were smiling on my neighbors this morning and I was the only one, chosen to walk that road alone.

I ran into my house and then could not find the matching shoe to either one of them and panicked even more. I finally fond the matching shiny white one and sped off back to work. I wonder if this is how Cinderella felt when she only had the one glass slipper. Did she walk around her village all mismatched?

And to make matters even worse, this is not the first time such a thing has happened to me. Last summer, I went to meet up with Garad and Adam to go to Media Markt. I walked from my house to theirs, along the canals of Amsterdam, met them, got on the tram then connected to the metro and when we were almost there, I noticed I had on two different shoes. At least they were both white so nobody noticed, but Garad immediately took photos so he could blackmail me at some point in the future. As soon as I am home, I am going to make a sign and put it o my mirror that says “Have you checked your shoes today?”