Morning dreams

Still under the cloud.

Like in a sci-fi story, there is a glass dome in the atmosphere that we can't see but cocoons us, isolating this island from the rest of the world.

So still weird, still out of character.

Still chasing early morning dreams. The ones you allow yourself to linger on, instead of getting up. On a Saturday. The curtains move. A few more minutes before stepping into the day. Eyes still closed. Resisting life pulling in. Holding on to a backdrop. Somewhere a step before or after imagination. Far away from words. Just flashes. Breaking through the fabric of reality.

Then, the smell of coffee.

That cold black cloud is comin' down

Stranded. Scattered around the world, under a surreally silent sky.

Male Friend #2 is stuck in Thailand, locked up in his hotel room, trying to avoid the political uprising. He sounded so miserable, poor thing. Resist, my friend, you will be home soon.

To add insult to injury, Single Friend #1 gave up her emergency pick-me-up weekend. I foresee a trip around her place with a massive bottle of vodka. Head sore already, just thinking about it.

Lovely Friend had to say adiós to his Spanish holiday.. pesky volcano, you upset him!

Married Friend #2 is obliged to slow down for a couple of days. Work commitments cancelled, she is left to make the most of some quality time with her husband. I hope her BlackBerry is reminding her of her marital duties (duties? Tasks? Contractual obligations? Perks?).

I know it can’t be seen, but I can feel it. I can feel the cloud over my head.
Inside my head? Thoughts muddled up? Hmmm, not sure. More a tidal wave that comes and goes. And when it goes it is all clear and lucid. When it comes, it hits you like a bus. I like the clarity; I like the bus.

Reading back, yes, this is an odd post. Maybe the cloud is closer than it seems.

Nuclear war

Spoke too soon...

Ladies and gentlemen, we have gone nuclear. I was summoned to SF#1's and it was Ground Zero. The fairy tale is over, the monogrammed hand towels have been shredded. Time to clear out the debris.
I wish I could say I saw it coming, but it would be a lie. Mine was a hunch, but even I wasn't expecting this.
Only a few days back Sexy Guy asked SF#1 to pick the kitchen tiles with him. The cabinets, the stove, the oh so convenient foldaway pantry. They were laughing at the sales assistant, posing as a 50's couple in the show apartment, making out in the beds department. Then.. then, he backed off. Just like that. This was becoming too much, too soon.

So, my question is: in a relationship, who makes the rules? And are we allowed to change them half way through? And anyway, what is the point of being right or wrong? Once the damage is done, what are we gaining from flagging a red card, from being the righteous one, if we are also the ones with a broken heart? Sure, saying 'you are an a-hole' may give a momentary satisfaction, but then what? They are gone and we are left rejected, alone and with a shattered confidence. And angry.
So, no, I have not stated the obvious to SF#1. I just sat there with her, holding her tight. She needs to live it, acknowledge it, cry it out and get through it.

The kids are alright

Blank, nothing, zippo, silence.
I stare at the screen and nada.
Creativity: gone.
Words: disappeared.
Language: to a bear minimum.
What’s going on?
No desperate crying.
No hilarious enthusiasm.
I am just.. fine.

Brush up your Shakespeare

Shall the effect of this good lesson keep. As watchman to my heart.

(Drawing) Rings around the world

I am not going to discover a new continent by stating that communication has been the 'silent' revolution of our generation. And most certainly I am not going to waste anybody's time yabbing about it. But you see, such an abundance of hardware and software does not detract from two key issues: men and phones don't go together, an EI needs subtitles, always.

Back then in the 80's, my dad was one of the first people in the country to buy a cell phone (remember those huge bricks that had absolutely no reception whatsoever?). He then kept updating the whole family's phone pool with the latest models. And yet, if you tried to reach him at any time, for any emergencies, his phone was always off. He just hated even the sound of the phone ringing.
Same with The Man. He has never replied to any of my text messages from around the world, as there was 'no need, as long as he knew I landed safe and sound, and nothing major happened' with him.
And, while Male Friends #1 and #2 keep in touch quite thoroughly by instant messaging, I cannot recall many phone chats, such as the ones I have with Best, Single and Married Friends.

Regarding the subtitles, I am convinced that IMs, SMSs, MSN, MMSs, Facebook and MySpace have actually made me more and not less clueless. I currently carry two BlackBerries plus my old phone, use three laptops and a desktop, four iPods and two digital cameras. Am I any wiser? Not at all.
I still find myself asking for elaboration and clarification; I wish people carried LCDs hanging from their necks explaining what they really mean. I usually cannot even pick up my own signals (why was I smiling? Dunno, just in a good mood, I suppose). And end up standing there wondering 'should I, should I not', only to find myself thinking a few hours later 'I wanted to..'

The facts of life

If you ask for feedback, be prepared for answers you are not going to like.

The Man took me out for dinner to a posh Michelin-starred restaurant recently. Historic setting coupled with ethnic decor. French cuisine and international cellar. Attentive service and tables far enough from each other to have a private conversation. All was going smoothly. Until the main course arrived. Which was nice. Just, too much going on in the plate: turbot, peppers, chives, creamy sauce, bits of parsley sprinkled across the plate. The flavour of the fish was completely lost.

So, when the Hungarian metre d' asked if 'everything fine, madam', well, I couldn't resist. And just told him what I thought.. and he didn't take it well. At all.
That was it. I was black-listed for the rest of the evening. No eye contact, no direct questions. The Man had to order my food and my wine, because I had become invisible.
Really? Really.

Which takes me back to the discussed subject of feedback. To those awful moments when you are at the end of a review request. And it is someone you care about.
What do you do, lie and leave them in complete ignorance of their 'areas of development'? Or brutally say something they will never forget and forgive you for? I am not even going to dignify the 'how was it for you' in bed.. that only happens in films, right? But what if they keep on wearing a highly unflattering ensemble? If their karaoke singing breaks glasses in the storeroom? If you hate tuna and this bloody Salad Nicoise is on the table every single day? If coffee is, yes, delivered to you in bed, but is always burnt?

Management courses tell you that honest feedback is key for professional and personal development and to create a trustworthy work relationship. I see it as two-way road. If you are ready to accept negative as well as positive feedback, if you brace yourself to endure the truth and make something good out of it, then maybe delivering a blow can get a bit easier.

However, rather than being right, sometimes it is still better to do the right thing. To just smile and encourage the ones you love, because, no, they don’t look fat in that coat, and, yes, they are going to make it in the music industry.

Otherwise, be prepared to be shunned for a whole evening. Because some feedback is just too hard a bite to swallow.

(We belong together like) Traffic and weather

How do you know you do?

Sexy boy

After several tos and fros, we finally met Sexy Guy.

Single Friend #1 gave us the coordinates to their latest rendezvous and we just ended up accidentally on purpose in the same bar. Yep, an ambush, in case you are wondering. But he didn't seem to mind. Au contraire, he appeared very pleased to receive some unexpected female attention.

The verdict?

Sexy, he is sexy, no doubt about it. SF#1 cannot keep her hands off him. And so couldn't SF#2, Married Friend #2 and the cocktail waitress. What was going on, I have no idea. It was some kind of giggling hormone craze. I practically had to hit Married Friend #2 under the table to wake her up from a state of stupor as he started talking about his summers sailing in the South Seas. He then had to show us the scar on his left bicepts (apparently SF#1's recount wasn't enough) and check our fitness levels by squeezing our own bicepts ("Touch me and I shall hit you" - worked a treat).

Don't get me wrong, it wasn't all bad (I feel like I am sounding more and more like a bitch these days). He is funny, chatty and interested in people's conversations. Most importantly, SF#1 is happy, very happy. Sex is great, apparently. And he seems into her. As in, interested in her. My only worry is that he seems interested in quite a few other ladies at the same time as well. But maybe he is just flirting and playing along, and means no harm.

Now, I just need to stop Married Friend #2 from even considering the possibility of spicing up her marriage and ruining a friendship.. aarrrgghhh!!

From out of nowhere

Have you ever been hit by a moment that was just.. perfect?
A few seconds of palpable happiness that just come.. and go..