WWBD?

Indeed, What Would Bradley Do?

I figure, first of all he'd be real grateful for something or other. (I know, this is getting old...)
Secondly, he'd NOT be sitting procrastinatin' - I mean look how far he's come in the world. Despite the fact that he's got a VERY thin-lipped mouth. A lady of my acquaintance once warned me of people with lines for mouths. They are mean and cruel. Her words, not mine. Clearly, she had it wrong somehow. Because it seems they are driven too. And perhaps there needs to be a certain amount of cruelty to get ahead in the world. Maybe it's a secret club. With secret signs and passwords to get you in the inner circle, with measuring tapes for the smallest ... Oh, whatev!

Faced with a problem, good ol Brad'd dig in. Or tell someone to. That comes with the territory and the celebrity pay cheque, I believe. Lucky Coop.
Maybe we should not ask WWBD but WWBAD? A is of course for? Correct, assistant(s).

So having said that it is clear that BC would tidy his flat if that were the most pressing issue of the day - or have someone do that for him. The thing to remember is, Void, he'd get straight to it. No mucking about there!
Since I am not of his monetary calibre, I and I alone will have to get to work. Which looks dire to me, dire, indeed. Oh, the unfairness of it all!

Enough I say. So tomorrow - as all good procrastinators will agree - tomorrow, will be the day I shall invest my time in a flat-overhaul in the cleaning and clearing sense.
Yup, go big or go home, right.
Though experience has shown that over-enthusiasm is the downfall of many a project.
Still, where would be without a little naiveté, hm?

I cannot be stopped, Void!
And I will be at least twice as good as Bradley's cleaning lady ever was! HA! Even if it kills me. And it may...


I shall stop here and save my precious energy for my big day tomorrow.
Watch this space.



P.S. Just so we're clear - I will not experience tomorrow's task as therapeutic or happiness-inducing! 
What am I, Mary freakin' Poppins?!

16:37

That is the time I managed to heave my old bones out of bed. And I am proud of it! Eat that, Early Bird!

Also I look out of the window and at the mighty endless blue sky, the clouds making shapes and funny faces and I must confess: it leaves me totally unimpressed.

So what we've had a bit of an under-developed Summer?! Why this need for perfection, why this unhappiness?

And why oh why this blatant disregard of the need for acceptance and gratitude. I should inform the Bradley Police!

Also I am confused as to why everyone is getting their knickers in a twist about the blooming weather. Since it looks like this is what it's gonna be from now on we should really get used to the fact of Summers being either rainy and fiendishly cold affairs or so desert-like that we may witness a rise in things such as Riding a Camel - Beginners Classes, or How to decorate your Drifting Dune.
I do believe it has been made sufficiently clear that the chances of this weather/climate business ever getting better again are super slim (they're like the skinny jeans, the drain pipes of meterology). I mean it's clear that it's downhill from here, right? It's NOT going to get better (unless each and everyone of us decides to vacate and locomote at exactly the same time) and thus it's a bit like aging. You can't fight it, you can't win. Best thing you CAN do is do it gracefully.

So here I am gracefully sleeping in on sunny days, gracefully sticking to the shade and gracefully declining invitations to activities that involve exposure to UV rays.

Really, I am all about grace these days. I am practising detachment. I am not pissing and moaning about things I have no control over. You should try it some time. It's so liberating.

Only problem now: what am I going to do with that Bangin' Bikini Bod of mine?!

Talk About Over-Compensating

I leave this space blank for weeks at a time in order to pen - with tremendous effort, I might add - one big ol' lump of thougths.
Must try to be more consistent.
However, I have been struggling with yesterday's post for ages. Said lump of thoughts has been sitting with me, staring me in the face, stubbornly refusing to take shape. I kept writing and deleting ad nauseam.
So forgive me for feeling a little smug today.
Some people cure terrible diseases, I muddle through and finish a damn post that's been a long time coming. Results, clearly! On a different scale to be sure. But still...

So, Coop, what you say we be grateful for a moment here? You for all your big piles of money and I for showing some tenacity for a change.
Deal!

Could It Be Magic

Looked at flats.
One of them could be my new haven.
If all goes well...

A kindly friend picked me up to look at them together. All afternoon I had been super nervous.
It was like final exams all over again. Sweaty palms, palpitations, queasy feeling in stomach area, you name it.
But I made it. And as a result may have found a little flat for little moi.
Of course the nerves had totally obliterated my ability to think rationally and clearly. Common sense was conspicuously absent, too. Thus, all I managed was to squeak out questions in between gasps of delight and wonder. Not necessarily the right kind of questions, the ones any sane person would come up with. Like what about the deposit, what about the estate agent's fee? The list goes on, believe me.
Hey, cut me some slack!
I viewed a newly refurbished decent-sized flat with a big kitchen, a PROPER bathroom and CENTRAL heating! I have been living on a building site the past couple of months http://somethingstartsnow.blogspot.com/2011/12/war-zone-and-fa-la-la-la-la-la-freakin.html ? Not to mention: http://somethingstartsnow.blogspot.com/2012/02/winter-of-my-discontent.html !
I COULD NOT HELP MYSELF!
It was a bit like leaving the Cookie Monster unsupervised. In a shop. With cookie jars. Full of delicious, still warm chocolate chip cookies. And the chocolaty bits are sticky and soft and ... alright, you get the idea.

Anyway, all I am saying is:
Fingers crossed!
And even though the Void does not have fingers, forget about opposible thumbs, I would like to think that IT does IT's special magic-y thing to help me out.
All in the name of the greater benefit of the universe, of course.
Haven't you heard - happy me, happy u-niverse.
It's that simple.

No, really - I would love for this to go right. REALLY VERY MUCH (and, yes I know I am using a LOT of capitals today. It's just to show just how important this is to me, in case it had slipped anyone's notice).

And if you can be grateful in advance, then I am herewith.
VERY!
Cooper, watch out!

The Winter Of My Discontent

Just got home...
to find my toilet completely unconnected from the main water pipe...

Dear Void, please DO give me the strength to stay calm.
Furthermore, PLEASE let my landlord find a qualified water/drain/pipe guy who can fix this. And fix it yesterday.
Also, I would like you, darling Void, to point me in the direction to understanding WHY THE FUCK ME AGAIN????

It's Friday.
I have a flat that is still missing wallpaper, paint, tiles (don't get me started!) and...oh yes, a flippin' loo that works.
I have had a week of builders walking in and out, the rooms I can live in look like a horder's den, boxes and stuff everywhere. I am basically living out of a suitcase. Every morning I carry my toiletries around like I'm on a bloody camping site.

I must say I have been pretty darn patient and graceful about all of what's been going on lately.
But this is really taking the biscuit... I have no rising-above left in me.
I HAVE NO TOILET!

Not sure whether to laugh or cry.

Did I mention that the flat-hunt is not going too well.

So, happy freakin' weekend to all!

P.S. Dear Mr. Cooper, what do you suggest I put on that gratitude list for today?

In Love With Lana

Every single time Lana Del Ray's Song Video Games comes on I catch myself feeling wistful.

This is not a complaint.
It is a simple statement of fact. Video Games makes me remember and wish for times gone by.

So, in good old Bradley Cooper Fashion, I shall be grateful to Lana. For conjuring up such vivid pictures of the past. For calling the ghosts. For making my heart ache a little, for making me laugh at silly antics that seemed long forgotten.
She also put her finger on something that to everyone else must have been and probably IS so damn obvious but I have - once again - been in the dark for what seems my whole life.

I am not done yet but too tired.
So, more soon

The Fit Of The Land

I have all but forgotten about the Bradley-style list, my own attempts at gratitude and inner quiet, patience, kindness.
I mean, I have been banging on and on about it.
Sadly, I have to admit that I have not been very good with keeping the focus on myself and my thoughts in order to be a better version of myself, to be less rash and more balanced, more patient and indeed kind to my fellow men and fellowmaidens. (And yes, I know Fellowmaiden is a font and not really a term in the English Language used to designate female members of the populace, thank you.)

I seem to have got lazy. Side-tracked, complacent, generally not bovvered.


Shocking! I know! And we're only three weeks into the new year.
What is to become of my intentions which are neither good nor bad?
Clearly they're also neither here nor there.
A disappointing performance so far! But I shall not call this undertaking a failure. Yet. I treat this as a minor glitch. A hiccup. Plus, I blame it on the dark. The lack of Vitamin D makes us all feel worse for wear.
But to be perfectly honest, I do not really see myself pulling me out of this slump.
I need a trailblazer, someone who is willing to go that extra mile and take me along.
Some kind of improvement-buddy, I guess.
Preferably someone that fits into my jacket pocket and just nudges me gently when I threaten to fall back into nasty old patterns and habits. Right, not gonna happen.

Well, up to very recently I was very much opposed to the idea of sports in general and of jogging in particular and jogging in pairs made up a whole new category of hate.
However, I have now changed my tune slightly - maybe it's because every morning when I wake my body feels like it's turned 80 while I was sleeping - I can imagine now that a running partner may be a good idea in order to actually keep to the schedule of alotted training time as opposed to not going at all because of "generally not being bovvered"-ness.
You see, that is my problem right there. I am not bovvered. I get these pangs of guilt and frustration at how I look and I inadvertently reach the conclusion that I HAVE TO DO SOMETHING ABOUT THAT. However: such insight never stays long. I suffer from Fitness Amnesia.
My enthusiasm and excitement usually fizzle out and I end up not sticking to schedules, diets, plans etc. (I did mention this before: I am consistent at one thing - giving up.)

So I keep thinking perhaps having a person that joins me in the effort might be a good thing.
The ideal jogging buddy would probably be my improvement buddy, too. (Jogging as one rung on the self-improvement ladder, see what I did there.)

Inner Monologue:
Me: I do believe, I need to be my own improvement buddy! I need to be my trailblazer.
Myself: Are you out of your mind?! Do I have to do everything around here?
Me: Think about it. I'd be perfect. I cannot stand the idea of having someone watch me cough up my lungs while trying to move at a pace that is not considered moseying. Much less do I cherish the thought of bouncy, fit Sporty Spice chatting incessantly without ever needing to catch her breath or considering to shut the hell up while I quietly sink to the ground and die from outdoors activity.
Myself: I shall not endorse this kind of thinking. I refuse to be my improvement buddy.
Me: Well, if it is not myself then I do believe we WILL have to get in the chatty road runner. It's one or the other.
Myself: (shaking her Magic Eight Ball): Concentrate and try again!
Me: I. Do. Believe. I. Need. To. Be. My. Own. Improvement. Buddy.
Myself: How's that gonna work?!
Me: Easy! It's gonna be me. But new and improved. And I shall get myself together and start over with this home-improvement.
Myself: It's called SELF-improvement, you div.

I know I have been talking about it a bit, the growing and the paying-attention and the being-grateful and what have you.
But for some reason I seem to suffer from all sorts of amnesia, i.e. I keep forgetting my plans, my resolutions, intentions, my little promises to myself and the universe - call them whatever you want - fact remains, I get so bloody caught up in ... well, stuff (which does not even bear writing about because it's so silly) that it all seems a giant waste of time.
So while I have a clear moment I shall propose this to the void (btw. the void has heard all of this before but kindly and patiently plays along - every single time - the void is officially kewl):
I need to make the conscious decision to change. It cannot be half-hearted or half-arsed, as it were.
And yes, my favourite: no one's gonna do it FOR me.
Oh, and the perfect time would be right now. (Always is for some reason.)
See! Easy! (Did I hear a chuckle just now?!)

But seriously, if I am not the one who looks out for ME, who gently reminds me of what I want to be in this here universe, who patiently puts me back on track then who in hell is going to do the job?!
I guess, I do have to do everything myself 'round here.

Is it not strange how often we say "Well, if I do it myself at least I know it is done properly" and how rarely we apply that to ourselves and our own personal growth?


On this note: be patient and gentle and kind - not least to yourselves!


P.S.
I could NEVER pay anyone enough to become my jogging buddy.

So, Friday 13th, huh?!

Don't get me wrong, I am not complaining. It was yet another not quite so eventful day in my glitzy life.

Also I did not get run over, did not break a leg, did not even fall down the stairs for a change. Oh, didn't I tell you? Yeah, December was my Month of the Staircase. I managed to trip and fall down two of them. In two different locations with roughly two weeks between each occurance. Yeah, I'm thorough.


But today - not so much as a bump on the head... Ok, so I did spill my coffee...

But I was sort of expecting WAY WORSE and once you do that, everything that does go a little wrong usually seems silly and small.
I am not suggesting, however, that one should go about one's life expecting the WORST every single day, even though sometimes it may seem like a good idea.

I would love to write: NO! Go through life hopeful and with eyes open.
In fact, I write and say that often.
To other people.
To everyone but myself.

I blame it on the "standing too close" thing and the fact that one can give brilliant advise to others and analyse their problems and tell them everything is going to be just fine etc. but fail miserably in their own little scenarios called life.

Anyway, this was supposed to be just a quick note to say that I am very grateful.
For not much happening.




There, you see - Bradley's finally rubbing off on me. Ha!
Looks like Friday, 13th was actually good for something.

Deary Me

Did I mention that the flat is falling apart?
Well, it certainly FEELS that way.

My favourite person in the world right now (aka HE WHO CANNOT BE NAMED) is still too busy and important and generally too deluded to be bovvered and so I am STILL waiting for the things to come to pass, i.e. continuation of the "WORK" that NEEDS to be done, i.e. exchanging the pipes and putting everything back to normal . . like plaster and wallpaper on the walls and the ceiling where it belongs.

I have had a letter from the above mentioned BFF in the mail before New Year's. But I thought, screw this, I am not going to spoil my fun and read this letter before 2012 has even started.
(BTW, my FUN consisted of over-eating, watching a truck-load of DvD's and generally being a slob really. I was considering calling into being the Couch Potato Society with me as Chairwoman - or should that be Couchwoman?)

So when I finally opened said letter it contained an awfull lot of name-calling and threatening if you ask me and had me a little scared this morning before work. I am still in a state of mild shock I have you know...

I know I have said it before but now it rings truer than ever - I will be needing to look for a new flat. And soon by the looks of it. That is, the new flat should materialise soon. My looking for it should have started like 5 months ago - at least that is the conclusion I had to make when I took a tentative and very quick look on various property and rental sites.

Anyway - I have - ONCE AGAIN - been thinking and I do believe my refusal to follow in Bradley Cooper's footsteps or rather his example has set a few things in motion.
(Let me re-phrase: my seeming inability. There, that sounds much more co-operative. And if nothing else I am co-operative.)

What if the universe now thinks me an ungrateful bitch for real - after the bouqet-incident last week that is all the more likely - and has decided to send me a little lesson?!?!? In the shape of a nasty letter and the prospect of eviction and lawsuits and other jolly things.

What if my inability to be grateful and openly so has angered the... well whoever runs the universe these days?!

What if I kind of asked for this?!

And if not by being ungrateful then perhaps by my moaning  - and publicly so (WITH PICTURES for crying out loud) - about the flat.
Perhaps the Chief Universal Officer thought, well she does not like it there anyway so why not shape the events in such a way that she will HAVE to do something about it.


Do you not find it worrying that I have all sorts of explanations involving HIGHER POWERS for what I am experiencing? Should I not have understood by now that the events in our lives are brought forth by our own will, might and energy?
I get it, ok. I get that this MAY be the best thing that could happen, like a little nudge to get active and start searching for a new place to stay. So why am I ranting? (Good point.)

Well. because I often feel that I am not in charge of my life.
And I feel that I am still  - far too often if you ask me - quite happy to bum along, as it were.
And I feel that in effect I am passive and waiting for some outside impulse to trigger my action, or should that be re-action.
AND I feel that I should not be like this at the age of ... well, never mind.

That has me worried. Honestly.
And I ask myself WHY?!
Is it fear, is it chronic lazy-syndrome, is it, dare I say it, some kind of self-hate?


Well, this is not the time nor is it the place. But I dare not guess. And anyway, deep in your darkest heart of hearts you always know, don't you.

Back to the point and first things first: I will have to get my head around thinking about a new place for real. Which presents me with yet another "problem" - the issue of WHAT THE HELL do I want in terms of accomodation which then triggers the question of HOW AM I GOING TO AFFORD IT?!

You see, 2012 has started with a bit of a BANG.

As yet I have not been able to decide if it qualifies to be put on any kind of gratitude list.





I wonder if Bradley does How to-sessions? DIY - The Gratitude List. Hm...

Dilemma

No more roses. No cards.

So far. Pheww! Thank God!

It's not that I am TRYING to be ungrateful. Or weird.

It's just... it freaks me out, being sent stuff by strangers.

Stalkers? Ring any bells?

Not that I think myself of as a potential victim. But then who does BEFORE they are being stalked.

Over-reacting, me?

I just find it a weird thing to do - sending someone roses.
WITHOUT a note.
And clearly not knowing me at all. Because if they did, they'd known I am not that big on roses.
I mean are we women supposed to swoon over a bunch of roses?

I find the whole idea a little  - forgive me - tacky. And creepy. After all, I do not know by whom they were sent. Clearly, whoever that was has got something to hide.

Oh, so I am the callous one now? I am an ungrateful bitch? I do not appreciate this kind gesture?
And if not that then at least enjoy the pretty roses, woman!
Right? Is that what I should be doing?
And why is that, may I ask?
Because I've been given a bunch of roses I did not even ask for?

Now, hang on a minute - what is happening right now, right this minute in almost any city on the planet (o.k. spoilt first world)?
I tell you what: a majority of those who have received Christmas gifts are RETURNING them. Shock horror! Simply because they did not like them, they did not fit into them, they were simply WRONG. And I don't hear them apologising for their honesty and candour.

So why the Dickens can I not apply the same reasoning to those stupid roses?
I mean, it's not like I am actually returning them. (Now, that would be weird.)
I simply want to be able to say, I DID NOT LIKE WHAT WAS GIVEN TO ME!

Also: let me rephrase my earlier statement.
It looks very much like I am being purposely ungrateful. The reason for that is that I probably am. Being ungrateful.
Hm, I thought those days of having to say thank you to your smelly aunt for some silly jumper she sent you for your birthday were over. Clearly not. They haunt me to this day - and whatever I am given, my upbringing and social etiquette demand that I smile sweetly and show gratitude. (Ah, here we go again - Bradley and his gratitude. His comes in the shape of a list, did I tell you? http://somethingstartsnow.blogspot.com/2011/12/being-bradley-cooper.html
I bet he never got ANYTHING he hated. Well, not in the last 7 years, I suppose.)

But be that as it may, I am simply trying to ask the unaskable - why do I have to be delighted by something just because everyone else would be and just because it's NICE. I cannot agree to that. At all.
And I am sorry if my behaviour is hurting someone's feelings.

However, I do believe that in order to send a woman a gift, whatever it may be, which she may appreciate and which may show her the sender's admiration or AT LEAST attention to detail, you need to know her a little.
Random flowers are not going to do the trick. Just saying.

Plus I nearly poked my eye out with the greenery in the bouquet.
So there!

P.S. Maybe they are from Bradley Cooper. Hm, now that would explain a lot. He is clearly too busy compiling his gratitude list for properly paying any attention. The only thing he is paying is taxes. If that.