Vroom Vroom

This morning on the way to work, in the space of five minutes, I saw not one, but TWO of these magnificent beasts, a red one and a yellow one.

And I couldn't help but laugh. Here we were, sitting in traffic, at times moving at a snail's pace. It's not like they could ever be driven properly anyway, the maximum speed limit is 50kph (30mph) in the urban areas and only up to 100kph (50mph) on our highways, of which there aren't many.

Just sitting idling, waiting for the traffic light to change, I could not only hear the ferocity of that engine, but I could feel its power vibrating down into the road surface and then up into the taxi, along the backs of my thighs. Yes, a VERY nice feeling!!

But it was all I could do not to laugh at the absurdity of owning a car like that here, where gridlock is the order of the day during rush hour. And I've seen both cars before, they take a similar route to me - a five minute drive to work and a 10-15 minute drive home. In traffic. Heavy traffic at times.

What a waste.

By the way, is it true that the red ones go faster?

The Redcoats Are Coming...The Redcoats are Coming

No, not the Brits.....but the rotund elderly gentlemen with long white beards.

First, I noticed in the card shop, a whole section of birthday cards replaced by Christmas cards.

Then, I noticed the Christmas decorations beginning to appear around here.

I couldn't help but notice on my UA flight back to Hong Kong, that they were piping in Christmas carols as I boarded.

And my ears did not fail me the other day, when I noticed Anuja adding in some Christmas tunes to her repertoire (she sings a lot at work). I do believe I heard her own rendition of 'Do They Know It's Christmas?'. And yes, she sings all the parts.

But today at Starbucks, when my grande-skim-latte-with-an-extra-shot-please came in a red paper cup with an insulating sleeve decorated in white with red snowflakes, I knew that Christmas will soon be upon us. I skipped the gingerbread or eggnog flavouring options - all I can say is yuck-yuck-yuckity-yuck to that.

But I did have a cranberry scone and THAT is one of the best things about Christmas to me.

Ho Ho Ho.

Beta Boop

Sometimes I should just sleeping dogs lie. Or perfectly functioning blogs be.

I took the plunge and 'upgraded' to beta. Closed my eyes and pressed the button. Peeked with one eye, it looked exactly the same. Opened both eyes - yup all is good. Then....

When I went to add a comment to a post, that popped up - "The blog you were looking for was not found. Back to the Dashboard". My eyes went very wide at that point and I thought well poo, now I've lost all my comments?!

After fiddling around a little, it seems that the comments are only 'not found' in the Current Posts page and if you go to archive for November 2006, which of course includes current posts, you can see and add comments there.

Damned if I can figure that out but I've left a comment on the Blogger Help Board and let's see what comes from that.

Please don't give up commenting where you wish, and reading those who have. I'm afraid right now though, you'll have to click on November 2006 under Archive, to do so.

I suppose it could be worse. But it could also be one hell of a lot better too!

Update: Well that issue seems to have been resolved, thank goodness. However now it seems it's not possible to navigate back to my blog from my comments left on other blogs (mostly, I have seen one exception). While my profile settings are correct to be able to do that, it seems beta blogger doesn't care to oblige!!

Final Update: My profile link on comments at other blogs is now fixed. All systems are now go and thanks to the Blogger support team for their help!

Sotto Voce

There is nothing more wonderful than sharing soft loving whispers as I look into the eyes of the man I love. And to see his eyes looking back at me, returning that love tenfold.

To hold and be held in the deep of the night, without being enveloped in darkness. To leave the light on when we sleep so that if we wake, we will not miss a second of being able to see each other.

To breathe in his scent, his essence, while his breath pulls mine into his body. To taste him on my tongue and know from his soft moans that he is tasting me on his.

To caress his entire body with mine, from his toes to the top of his head. To stroke with the lightest of touches, every inch of bare warm flesh that I can reach.

To kiss away the tears from the corners of his eyes, as he does mine, when our emotions overflow. And while we do that, to smell the gentle scent of a dozen perfect red roses filling the room.

To trace the sign of eternity over his heart with my fingertip, when I tell him that I love him. And for our eyes to meet in silent understanding of the gravity, the joy and the inevitability of our love.

To hear the voice I now know so well, express his deepest thoughts and desires. The masculine strength of it, the way it breaks a little when his heart feels like it will melt. To listen to his every breath and the beauty of his laughter.

To fall asleep gazing upon the face of the man I love, and for it to be the first thing I see when I wake. And to kiss without having to move, that is how close I have rested in his arms.

To reflect on the words of Kahlil Gibran every single day:

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

This man blesses my life by being a part of it.
This man fulfills my need to love and to be loved.
This man tells me I deserve goodness and then offers it to me.
This man appreciates me as much as I appreciate him.
This man is comfortable in silence with me.
This man embraces and engages the totality of me.
This man's heart beats with mine.
This man.....this man.

Sotto voce, tesoro mio.

The Other Man In My Life

Lupo. My adored little boy. I took this picture a few days after I found them. This is him (on the right) with his brother Love (pronounced loo-vay) who was adopted by a friend and now lives in Sweden.

I found them when I was living in Tenerife, abandoned and dumped just outside where I was living. The vet reckoned they were about four weeks old at the time and Lupo was very very sick, he couldn't even keep water down. I was told not to get too attached to him. Well you can see even in that photo that he wasn't quite as bright-eyed as his brother. I was working all day in the dive centre and when I'd take them out for walkies, each one fit in the palm of my hand. Those are cat harnesses they're wearing in the photo, that's how tiny they were and all long legs and feet and ears!!

I really was so worried about Lupo, he was getting weaker and weaker and then one day, about 10 days after finding them, he threw up and out came about three feet of cling wrap!! They must have been living on garbage but how they survived to even four weeks amazes me. After that he came along leaps and bounds.

I nursed them along and they were in my life 24/7 for the first four months and then a friend adopted his brother. I hadn't planned on having a dog as I had two cats already, but there was no way I could ever even think about giving him up by then. When my sister came over to run the business for me, she brought her little Jack Russell, an East-London dog she named Shaz. This is the two of them in their 'scuba' gear!!

Of course he has had his very naughty stages, like the time I bought him a new ball

and this happened to it - don't you love the look on his face? No it wasn't me, honest it wasn't...ummm ok ok and I feel so bad *L*

mmmmmmmmmmmm do I see steak?

My boy just loves the mountains

and the beach
but his favourite is the snow which he gets to run in once a year when the snow collects on the top of Teide (the volcano on the island)

and all that fun does make for a very yawny dog

and that of course means crashing with his 'sister' at the end of the day in their own chair

No matter how long I'm away from him, he always gives me the most wonderful welcome when we see each other again. Although he's now more my sister's dog than mine as she's had him for the past six years, while I was in his life for only the first year, we will always have that bond. He's so wonderful, one of those intelligent, kind, sensitive dogs. I do love him so.

And I'll be seeing him soon. January or February I'll be visiting him in Tenerife and my sis and I plan on having a vacation then, probably going over to La Gomera or El Hierro or La Palma (other islands in the Canaries) as they can be reached by ferry and the dogs get to go too!

My Lupo. My adored boy. Not only by me, but by everyone who meets him.

Cough....Splutter....Sneeze....Honk

On my flight last Friday, there was a woman sitting on the plane one row back and over to my left. She sneezed and hacked her way across the Pacific and damn her I think she infected me.

I felt a little congested while I was away but on Monday morning as I began my journey home, it started in earnest. I knocked myself out with cold/flu tabs on the 14-hour plane ride (headwinds added 3 hours onto the journey westwards), which in itself was a good thing as I hadn't slept while travelling eastwards, so at least I arrived home without feeling too jet-lagged.

I went to work on Wednesday and managed to crawl through the day but yesterday, it took me down and it took me down hard. I called in to work to say I'd try to get there in the afternoon but Nooj threatened to lock the doors if I even attempted it. Trust me, I'm not a wuss and I don't do the 'I'll just stay home in bed' routine easily. But anyway, I DID stay home in bed, medicated myself, went through almost a whole box of tissues and generally slept and lazed. Thank goodness for bootleg dvds!

Back at work today and while the congestion is definitely better, it has moved down my throat into my breathing tubes.....ouch ouch ouch. I'm dosing myself now with Pei Pa Koa syrup which is the best thing in the world.


If you ever see this on a shelf somewhere, grab a bottle. Mix some in with hot water and drink it down and you will feel it working right away. An all-natural remedy containing 15 herbs and man it tastes SO GOOD!!

But you know, not even feeling ill can dampen the joy, the delight, the magnificence of being loved by the most amazing man I've ever known.

The Real Deal

Love. Fulfilling love. Healthy love. Mature love. Fun love. Balanced love. Comfortable love. Deep love.

I used to think I knew what love was. I used to think I'd experienced it in my life. I used to think it had come and gone. Everything I've ever known or thought I understood, has paled in comparison to what I'm feeling now.

Two days of the most soul-searching, passionate feelings. Laughter until there were tears in our eyes. A silent awareness of things shared. Common thought and common understanding, of a most uncommon intensity. Touches and caresses that went beyond the patch of skin involved.

I know what love is now. Forgive me if I don't share much more than this here, but it's just so deeply private and personal. Plus, in any case, I can't quite put words to it. I'm too busy just feeling so very loved right now.

And he is, quite simply, the best thing that has ever happened to me.

Kisses Met

It's time to head to the airport.

This, in the words of a very good friend, is kismet. Or kisses met. I like that!

I'll see you all in a few days. Be safe and be happy.

WTF??!!

A typhoon (hurricane) in November???????

I'm scheduled to fly out on Friday just after noon. And now THIS mofo is sitting out there.

In its latest advisory, the JTWC has favored a track towards South China near Hong Kong, Macau, and Guangzhou; landfall is suggested for Friday, local time.

TYPHOON (TY) 22W (CIMARON), LOCATED APPROXIMATELY 270 NM SOUTH-SOUTHEAST OF HONG KONG, HAS TRACKED NORTH-NORTHWESTWARD AT 04 KNOTS OVER THE PAST SIX HOURS.

Yes, that's correct. It's south-southeast and is moving north-northwest. I'm sitting on the coast where you see a sort of ^ indentation, just to the right of that.

I know it's selfish of me to be worried about my trip when storms like this cause such havoc and devastation, but excuse me while I express myself.....*&^%$#@+&^%*


Update (Wednesday afternoon):

CIMARON HAS TRACKED WEST-NORTHWESTWARD AT 04 KNOTS OVER THE PAST SIX HOURS .

Well at least WNW is better than NNW or NW but it still doesn't seem to have chosen its path yet.


Update (Wednesday night):

MOVEMENT PAST SIX HOURS - 360 DEGREES AT 01 KTS

Basically it's just sitting there


Update (Thursday morning):

MOVEMENT PAST 12 HOURS - 045 DEGREES AT 01 KTS

The JTWC is still going with a path towards southern China. But the starting point for the forecast track is necessarily farther east. Once again, forecasters at the JTWC have acknowledged that there are at least two likely solutions to the problem of Cimaron and its ultimate destination. Another path is for the stalled typhoon to loiter over the open South China Sea, ultimately getting squeezed toward the southwest by high pressure building over China. There is a small possibility of Cimaron heading northeastwards and it may become a weakening storm buffeted and broken by shearing winds, including a drift toward the west and south -- over the South China Sea for at least a few days to come.

There it still sits, no matter what, it's too far away to ground my plane now - Girls the dance worked!!!! THANK YOU!!!!


Final Update (Thursday evening) - No threat to my travel plans. I'll be going home soon to pack, and to primp and preen .... and hopefully get a good night's sleep.

Respect and Appreciation

I have a relationship with my mother that is neither comfortable nor loving, as I have described before. However, yesterday she gave me an unexpected gift. The gift of respect and appreciation.

When my parents drew up their wills many years ago, I was named Executor in both. It was what my dad wanted. When he passed away, I got quite involved with making sure everything was done properly, mainly because the lawyer was such an eejit (Scottish for idiot). It didn't make matters any easier that it was a will drawn up here while it was still under British control (and it's now a Special Administrative Region of China), so we had to jump through a few hoops to get it re-validated to satisfy Scottish law.

Since then, my mother has drawn up another will, to make things easier when the time comes. She had never told me about it, nor that my brother had been named Executor. She'd told my sister and my brother, naturally, locking me out of the entire process for some reason. When my sister let slip, not knowing I hadn't been told, it hurt but I figured there was nothing I could do about it and no point in even questioning it. When she finally told me, she said only that she'd signed a new will and so I asked for a copy as I'd had copies of them both before. She said yes, she'd send it to me, but it never came.

Yesterday, she called me and asked me if it would be OK to put me in as Executor instead of my brother. I said yes, of course, it makes more sense with my easier access to communications, my ability to throw time and expense at the issue if necessary. Even then I was trying to give her a comfortable 'out' as to why my brother was her original first choice. She hesitated and said no, it's because I think you are the one best suited to take on this responsibility.

I don't know if something has happened to make her wary of my brother having the role, or if she felt badly that she wasn't honouring my dad's wishes. Whatever her reason, I feel respected, appreciated, valued.

Maybe this is her only way of showing love. But more likely, it's because I'm the one with the least vested interest and I'm also the most practical of her children. The best one for the job, so to speak.

The Double Ninth

Today, we are celebrating (read that as official holiday) the Double Ninth or Chung Yeung Festival. The ninth day of the ninth month in the lunar calendar, which this year falls on October 30.

A traditional Chinese festival, wrapped around the concept that according to the I Ching, nine is a yang number and therefore the ninth day of the ninth lunar month, or double nine, has too much yang (a traditional Chinese spiritual concept) and is thus a potentially dangerous date. To protect against the danger, it is customary to climb a high mountain, drink chrysanthemum wine, and wear a plant named zhuyu.

Well, I live half way up a little mountain so I'm figuring that will count towards satisfying that criteria. I'll have a chrysanthemum tea (vs wine), which is delicious, but as I'm not really into wearing plants, I'll give the zhuyu a miss.

In these more modern times, many families take this opportunity to do a second round of grave sweeping or ancestor worship (the first being the Ching Ming Festival, 104th day after the winter solstice, which fell on the 5th of April this year).

But I'm here at work (and blogging just a little as a respite from a very intense couple of hours spent doing an international benefits survey) because I need to get really caught up as.....

drum roll please

I managed to convince my boss that I can actually be away for a few days so I'm taking to the skies again and will be gone from Friday until next Tuesday. No disappointment this time and 'he' has managed to organise things at his end too. We're both overwhelmingly happy at the way this has all worked out.

I'll only get there in the evening on Friday and I've got an early Monday flight to start my journey back home. Is it a long way to go to spend just a weekend? Yes, it is. But sometimes you just have to step over the threshold of that open door and embrace what lies beyond it.

My arms are open and I know his are too.

1. A World of Time and 2. Doogooder

1. Well you've all just moved an hour further away from me!!! We don't change our clocks here any more, so while I had my usual night's sleep (OK it was the weekend I got a little more), you have all had an extra hour in bed. I hope you made the most of it either by going to sleep later or by waking up at the usual 'time' and taking advantage of an hour more in bed!!

2. Doogooder is gone? Even his emails are being returned. Does anyone know what happened? He has a special place in my heart, being the person who got me into this blogging thing to start with. Wherever you are DG, if you read this, please be well and be safe. Let me know everything is OK, if you can.

Sometimes I Hate My Job

Just sometimes. Like today. Well, not my whole job, just a part of it.

Today the powers that be decided two managers would lose their jobs. Through no fault of their own. By being casualties of decisions to change their jobs into something they don't fit. Jobs that were put there one year and six months ago, respectively. Jobs into which I lured these two people, from good solid long-term employment.

We used to be a lot more ethical than this. We used to know what we were doing for more than a year ahead of us. We used to treat people a lot better than this. We used to be a good, secure place to work. An organisation big enough to be powerful in its industry, and yet still small enough that we knew and cared about each other.

I've never enjoyed this part of HR, the firing part. I much prefer hiring, even if the interviewing process often exhausts me physically and emotionally. At least I get to talk of possibilities with people who are excited to be considered to work in what is, for here, a very long-established organisation with a very good reputation. Or was. Yes, perhaps the time has come to say was.

It's worse when these are promising, enthusiastic, good people. People who deserved better from us, better from me. I remember interviewing both of them. I remember telling them that this is a company which stands by its employees even in the bad times, such as when our business was so severely affected by SARS in 2003. Noone lost their job, noone had their pay cut, noone was put on unpaid leave, noone had to worry about still having a paycheque despite us having no customers.

I remember their delight at being selected as our final candidate and offered the job. I remember talking about their contracts with them. I remember their first day with us. I remember doing their one-month interviews with them, making sure everything was going well and finding out if there was anything else I could do to make them feel more at home here.

Don't get me wrong, I understand that employment is part of being in business and we are here for the shareholders and the profitabilty of the company. I know that contracts aren't promises, I know that we might need you today but not tomorrow. I know all that.

But now, I will have to be part of the process that tells them: Sorry, we just don't want you here any more. We have made other arrangements for your jobs, changed them, and you just don't fit what we want. And I will have to deal with their disappointment, fear, anger, disbelief, sadness, before it becomes just an acceptance, a beaten-down acceptance that they've been crapped upon. At the end I will have to collect back their cards and keys, get them to sign off when they receive their last paycheque. Shake their hands and wish them well. Often I'm the last person people see. The first they meet at the interview, the last to say goodbye.

I hate this, I really and truly hate it. Every time I have to do something like this, it hurts.

"Comfortable In You"

Interpersonal interactions become a joy rather than something to be feared when we are willing to be ourselves, gladly allowing others to see us for who we truly are. Self-consciousness is often the result of our attempts to play roles that require us to deny the very qualities that define our individuality -- we get mired in dread, concerned that others will reject us when they discover the truth that is us.

When we accept that we are unique and are comfortable with ourselves, we no longer feel compelled to hide all or part of ourselves to please others. In opening ourselves to others in this way, we can revel in the pure pleasure of relating to people comfortably and honestly without trepidation.

This is part of a recent Daily Om Inspiration. I like it. I'm very much 'me' everywhere. Day-to-day life, work life, blogging. Very much a WYSIWYG person. When roleplaying was introduced to the chatsite I used to frequent, I fell out with them because I found amusement in the lengths to which they assumed their roles in the Gor environment. I remarked that when they 'spoke' it reminded me of Jodie Foster as Nell with her 'chicopee'. But maybe I just don't have enough imagination?

I'm not 100 percent comfortable with my body - well after all who is? - as I've put it through a lot. But I'm pretty much there in my comfort level with who I am, having survived some very rigorous rocking of my boat (and not in a good way!).

I'm not one for masks or embellishment, or even smoke and mirrors. I like the plain view. And I like it in others too.


Aaaaah - what a lovely and perfectly timed update, from my Om Horoscope, just in:

If you spend time cultivating positive qualities like honesty, friendliness, and helpfulness within yourself, people in the various spheres of your life will likely hone in on the beauty inside your soul. You can create an aura of lasting loveliness around yourself today by simply striving to be the best person you can be at all times.

The beauty we cultivate within is the foundation of the exquisiteness others see when they look at us because inner loveliness is a powerful force. Regardless of the appearance we project outwardly, it is our inner selves that attract people and inspire tender emotions to manifest themselves in their hearts. When we focus on what lies within rather than what is on the outside, we demonstrate our understanding of the subtle forces that draw individuals toward one another.

The love we crave comes willingly into our lives, attracted by our compassion, sincerity, and insightfulness. We needn’t ever conform to others’ standards of beauty when we strive to achieve inner charisma. You’ll feel profoundly attractive today because you have taken the time to lovingly and meticulously groom your soul.

"Because you have taken the time to lovingly and meticulously groom your soul".... how beautiful!!

Red....Blonde....Brunette

I'm by nature, a redhead (on the lighter end of the spectrum). And yes I can prove it!!

My hairdresser likes to, as he puts it, 'brighten it up a bit'. Meaning he is dealing with the grey bits and puts three different highlights through it. During my holiday in Hawaii, I was out in the sun a bit and yes, I was very careful. I applied and re-applied my SPF30 on the bits that weren't covered (not many, I can assure you). But I never thought about wearing a hat and in not doing so, I've become a little bit blonde. Only in the colour of my locks.

Now I'm considering trying out how a brunette (on the red end of that spectrum) feels. I'm a bit worried though, that going darker will only serve to draw attention to my thinning pate!!! And I'm not sure how I'll feel about having mismatched carpet and curtains. Or how it will look when it grows out.

Maybe I should just buy a wig and try it out for a while.

To Be Disappointed...And To Disappoint

There is someone I care for and not just a little, but a whole helluva lot. Someone who is good for me, and good to me. Someone I hope I'm also good for and I definitely try to be good to, though I will admit that I sometimes miss the mark. 'To boldly go', in the realm of relationships, is not that easy for me. I've been let down so many times.

It's a complicated situation but we want to meet. We will meet. We were planning it to be next month but I was disappointed in that work won't allow me time away. And in turn, because of this, I disappointed him.

The strength of him and I, is our ability to see beyond the disappointment. And I'll admit, he bolstered me before I could bolster him. We're disappointed and I'm the source of the disappointment, but we both see beyond. To the day we will finally touch and kiss. And I believe that day will be the perfect day, the right day for us to do that.

I can only think that next month just wasn't the right time, that there was a reason for the disappointment. And he insists I could never be the source of any disappointment for him. In that very statement he does more for me than any other man has ever done, for he believes in me.

I want to live up to that expectation because he's very special. I hope that all my past disappointments have taught me how to not disappoint.

Could You Do It?

I've been on some 'glass floors' on platforms on tall buildings - but this, no way could I do this. And I live on the 35th floor!!

Grand Canyon Skywalk

Today

Today you would have been 74. Before the dark, painful, difficult days, it would have been just another Saturday to you. A day filled with promise, with books, with plans, with seeing friends, with walking the dog. I never even let myself consider, that the day you turned 72, it would be the last birthday I'd get to share with you. Those last few years were so terrible, that evil disease fighting to rob you of your life. And, sadly, although you met it head-on with such courage, such valour, such determination, it won.

The loss of my Dad.

This is your second birthday since you left. The second date marked in my diary when all I can do is think of you - and this year post about you. The second time there is no phone call of congratulations, no words exchanged about aging and love and how special you are to me. The second time that I have no gift for you, no silly card that makes you smile.

Today, I can give you only this gift. This gift of sharing you amongst my friends. This gift of telling people about the man who anchored me, who cherished me, who always called me 'Fi-Fi'. I was always his little girl no matter my advancing years.

My Dad, Craig. My wonderful, caring, patient father. Whom I not only take after physically but whom I take after inside. We have the same sense of humour, the same practicality, the same generosity. Just sitting in a room together, we shared. He was a self-made man, a provider to all. His funeral in Scotland, the home he returned to after 48 years, brought out so many people. People who hadn't had contact with him in almost that many years, but who continued to remember him with honour, friendship and pride. He filled the church that clear cold March day.

I read some words and we bowed our heads as we heard him spoken of. I upset the minister by insisting we sing 'Jerusalem' as it was his favourite hymn. For those in the know, you'll understand that all references to 'England' caught in the throat of the Scottish minister. But oh how my Dad would have laughed at that.

Happy Birthday Dad. I'll never stop missing you.

And did those feet in ancient time
Walk upon England’s mountains green?
And was the Holy Lamb of God
On England’s pleasant pastures seen?
And did the Countenance Divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem builded here
Among these dark satanic mills?
Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear! O clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire!
I will not cease from mental fight,
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand,
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England’s green and pleasant land.

And to end with a beautiful image - I love this pic of my Dad with my 'chosen sister', Nooj, (taken years ago at my wedding):

The Night I Lost My Internet Connection

After a long day out, Rhona and I got back to the room. I had my shower (I sleep in the nude but for the sake of decency with her around, I put on a longish t-shirt until bedtime) and vacated the bathroom for her. While she was showering I sat at the desk to check my work emails. I know, I know, I was supposed to be on holiday!

I'd brought my own notebook and had purchased the one-week special broadband connection package which allowed for easy log-in whenever I wanted to use it. I opened the cover, turned it on and waited for the connection prompt. It didn't appear so I did all I could to check it, and even resorted to that well-known IT expert tip of 'turn it off and back on again'.

Same thing again, no connection prompt. So I referred to the little card on the desk and it told me to contact their 24-hour technical support team at a 1-800 number. I spoke to a very nice man, Mike, who had me walk through it all again - and a few things I hadn't tried. This went on for quite a while and he was clearly as frustrated as I was. The conversation at that point went like this:

Mike: OK, let's unplug the modem and then plug it back in. It's located on the wall under the desk.

Me: OK, I'll put the phone down and do that. I'll be right back. (I proceed to slide off the chair and crawl under the desk on my hands and knees, finally locating the small plug on the wall.)

Rhona (just out the shower and no sign of me in the room): Fion? Fion?

Me (mumbling under the desk): I'm under the desk.

Rhona (clearly not having heard me has walked around the beds to the desk): OH MY GOD I CAN SEE YER ARSE. OH MY GOD FION GET YER BIG ARSE OUT OF ME FACE. FION WHAT ARE YOU DOING? (cackles of laughter)

Me (mumbling louder under the desk): Rhona I'm on the phone!!

Rhona (in fits of laughter): EEEWWWW EEEWWWW FION GET YER ARSE OUT OF ME FACE!!

Me (finally coming up from under the desk and grabbing the handset to shove in her face): Rhona I'm ON THE PHONE and if my arse was in your face you were putting your face at my arse!!

Rhona: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. (louder laughter)

Me: Hello Mike are you still there.

Mike: Yes Ms. A.

Me: Oh good. Well I've done as you say but there's still no connection. (And thinking now, what a lovely voice this man has and do I hear laughter in the background.)

Mike: Well as you've pre-paid for a week of service, I'll insert you manually, every day, for the rest of the week.

(Do you have ANY idea how hard it was for me not to respond to that??!!)

Me (in my sexiest voice): Why thank you Mike, that would be great.

Mike: You're very welcome.

Me: Mike, you've been so helpful and I just wanted to let you know that I think you have a really lovely voice.

Mike: Why thank you Ms. A. Be sure to call again if you need any more help.

Me: I'll be sure to call you.

Hmmmm....I wonder if Mike likes fat bottomed girls.


Sing along with me:

Oooh yeah them fat bottomed girls
Fat bottomed girls
Yeah yeah yeah
Fat bottomed girls
Yes yes

A Day Out With Rhona

We caught the local bus and travelled to the North Shore to spend the day, in the hope of checking out throngs of surfer dudes, only to find the beaches relatively deserted:

So Rhona quickly jumped into the frame to make the beach look a bit busier:

before taking the plunge (and wishing she'd brought her boogie board along):

But seemed pretty pleased with herself anyway:

Of course we weren't totally disappointed and this surfer dude kept us entertained a while:

Afterwards we went in search of food and drink and investigated the local delicacies:

only to settle for a while....here:

which of course required some sustenance more substantial than fruit and tequila concoctions:

We just caught the last bus back to Waikiki that evening...and she still wanted to hit the strip!!! That will be for another post.

Ignorance is Bliss

I'm still sorting out my holiday pics and will post some more soon, but right now something is bothering me and I need to get it off my chest (and no, it's not my sister's coconut bra!!). It's something that happened between my mother and I when I was in Scotland.

It's my aunt's birthday, so we (my mother, my sister and I) all trundle up to Edinburgh to take her out for lunch and spend the day with her. Lunch is great, everyone had a wonderful time and I had carefully positioned myself to the outside of the table (and spoken with the maitre'd on arrival) to make sure I can take care of the bill as my aunt is very forceful about 'paying her way'.

I manage, despite much waving of arms by both my aunt and I, and threatened assaults by both of us on the wait staff to 'give me the bill', to take care of it. My mother later berates me for doing that, saying she wanted to pay. I kindly pointed out that due to her location at the table, that would have been impossible as she was in the far corner and past my aunt. Therefore, I took care of it as I knew the plan was that my aunt would not, under any circumstances, be allowed to pay. I should have sensed that would not be the end of it.

Later that afternoon, there is some reminiscing about the early years in Scotland by my mother and my aunt (this, for me, is birth to age 2). They were talking about where they lived and so on and suddenly my mother comes out with "She was an awful baby, a real bitch (looking at me)." I was somewhat stunned at this reference to a baby as a "bitch" and said so. My mother continued on, referring to me again as an "absolute bitch" due to the fact I apparently cried and screamed a lot. To the point she wanted to throw me against a wall. She even said that when my dad came home from sea, he told her that he couldn't bring himself to even like me. I think that hurt the most.

I said, and this is indeed my understanding, that a baby doesn't cry for nothing, there has to be a reason for it. Oh no I was told, you were just a bitch. I was so stunned I really didn't know what to say. So my mother continues on about how wonderful my brother was, how if I wanted one of his toys, he gave me it even though she told him not to, with him saying "it's OK mum, I don't mind". And what a wonderful boy he was, and man he is. My eyes started to sting a little as my brother and I have a very ugly relationship about which I've posted before and about which noone in my family knows. What she does know is that he tried to kill me several times before I reached my teens and she often recounts these stories (the two she knows about, there was one other I never told her because he threatened me at the time) and makes jokes about them.

When I was in Hawaii with my sister, we spoke about our mother a bit, about dealing with her and how we can be there for her in the difficult months ahead. I was taken aback when my sister said: "You know Fion, mum's really really nasty about you." I didn't even want to ask how, or what she'd been saying. I'm the one who has been the most supportive, I made sure I was there with her when she got her diagnosis and was the one able to ask the important questions, the answers to which are what have helped her decide what she wants to do about her illnesses. I'm the one who shops online for her for things she can't get locally, who goes out of my way to think of things she needs or might like to have. Who does more than call her on a regular basis (which is all my brother does), instead trying to make sure her life is made more comfortable. Even my sister has asked me why I do all this for her if she doesn't appreciate it. I guess I feel duty-bound in some way.

Since my dad passed away, I like my mother less and less. I care about her less and less. It's almost as though she's fading away already. It's almost as though, too, her affection for me has disappeared since my dad left us. I wonder if the two things are related and if she ever even liked me, or just made a show of it because my dad loved me so much.

More about my mother

Should I continue to just swallow all I hear and be the respectful daughter during whatever days she has left? Should I tell her how her beloved son stole my childhood and fostered such fear in me, which she would probably choose to deny anyway? Or should I just do what right now I feel like doing, and avoid her as much as possible?

I no longer feel as though I'm losing my mother, I feel as though I never had one.

They All Said Yes

I sat at the table and asked questions of thee
I wasn't alone for with me were three
to my right sat my heart, tired and beaten, though with a will to fight
to my left was my soul, dazed and confused, lost in flight
across was my pride, strong and firm, and ready to go
pride jumped up and yelled "Let's get on with this show"

I asked "When he goes by how do you feel?"
Pride boasted "To me it's no big deal"
my heart smiled and stated "The way it's suppose to feel"
my soul flew high and said "As if he were free"

I asked "And when he is close enough for us to touch"
my heart leaped up and yelled "It's just too much"
my soul was off waltzing as if a great dancer
pride sat silent, she would give no answer

"And when in our arms and it's him we do hold?"
My soul sprang forth "The place I have searched for years untold"
my heart beat fast...fainted...and fell to the floor
pride just smirked, another question she would ignore

"And what would you ask him to give?"
Soul said "Nothing, he has already given me the will to live"
"Kindness and love" said my heart wearing an incredible grin
pride just mumbled "An occasional win"

I asked "And in return what would he receive"
my heart stood tall "If in me he would believe all the affection and love that I am able"
my soul answered "THIS" and threw herself across the table
then pride smiled and said "If he were by our side for him I would never be foolish and always step aside"

"One more question for all to reply and to this one nobody may lie"
"Is he our true love, you must now confess"
without hesitation, they all said "Yes"


~ written by a friend of mine ~

Charity Begins at Home

This is one of my bugbears.

I received in the mail, a lumpy envelope from World Children's Fund. Inside I found a letter, a donation form and....a very nicely constructed keychain with their logo. And a request that I make a donation "to help provide life-saving relief assistance".

I am returning the keychain to them in the postage-paid envelope provided, with a note advising them that I don't support charities which waste donations like this. To add insult to injury, there is even a little note on it postage-paid envelope: "Please help save money for the suffering children by affixing a stamp on this envelope".

I cannot abide charities that send 'gifts' to potential donors. The worst are those that send money and say "these coins could provide food for a child for a day". I always send it back and say....bloody well use it for that then!!!

Don't get me wrong, I support several charities, just not those that do this.

Grrrrrrrrrrr.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

On my last day in Scotland we had this magnificent rainbow which turned into a double after a little while:

oh and this is how close my mum's house is to the sea - washes up against the front wall. The green 'leaf' on the bottom of the window is a piece of seaweed!! From the wash of the tide onto the house (it sounds like someone is taking a sledgehammer to the outside wall):

12 Hours and a Creased Face

I slept!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh boy did I sleep. I managed to last until 4:45pm at work. Hell I even ran a medical insurance meeting and it was the strangest thing, almost like an out of body experience, I could hear myself as though it was someone else speaking!!! I don't remember too much about it, I just hope I haven't agreed to anything untoward.

I got home, immediately took a melatonin, got naked, turned on the air-con, crawled between the sheets and within 10 minutes I had crashed. And I woke up 12 hours later and I think I'd turned over only once during the night, if at all, because the right side of my face was all creased from my pillow. NOT an attractive look to go to work with.

But, I do actually feel human again. I am woman, hear me roar!!!

A Promise is a Promise

Ian - may I present one Scottish grass-skirt-and-coconut-shell-clad lassie for your viewing pleasure.

Please excuse the white knickers, not part of the standard outfit but then looking at the sparse skirt perhaps a blessing she still had them on!! Or maybe not!!

And I'll have you know this cost me a bottle of dry white hastily consumed in the room - glass still in hand in the first pic.... and looking decidedly non-hulaish in that one!!

Discombobulation

It's 5am and I haven't slept. Which makes a grand total of six hours' sleep over the past three days (two hours on the plane, four last night, zero tonight).

Jet lag - worst I've ever had, not sure if I'm Arthur or Martha

Angst - some things said by my mother

Heartache - if loving him is wrong, I don't want to be right

Starbucks - I have to wait until 7am but they are going to chalk up a venti soy latte with, well I think I might have to make it an eight-shot

I feel numb and no it wasn't mass consumption of mooncakes, I had only a half of one and it was a three-yolker so it didn't leave much room for the lotus paste!

Update:

Me to Starbucks barista: Good morning, one venti skim latte (decided against soy) with four extra shots, extra hot and no foam please.

Silence...I smile at her

Starbucks barista to me: Four extra shots?

Me: Yes, please

Barista: One two three four?

Me: Yes, one two three four

Barista: In one venti latte

Me: Yes, thank you

Barista: Wow I've never made it like that before, that's really strong, it already has three shots

Me: I might be back in an hour for another one

Barista: (Wide-eyed and with a smile appearing)...I can give you a bag of beans to chew on

Me: I'll take one to go!!

I love a sense of humour in the morning!!!!!!

Mooncakes and Jet Lag

As per Wikipedia: Mooncake 月餅 is a Chinese confection that is traditionally eaten during the Mid-Autumn Festival, although they can be eaten at other times of the year as well. Typical mooncakes are either round or rectangular puck-shaped pastries, measuring about 10 cm in diameter and 4-5 cm thick. They have a relatively thin crust (2-3 mm), which surrounds a thick pasty filling and may contain yolks from salted duck eggs. Mooncakes are typically rich, heavy, and dense compared with most Western cakes and pastries. It is usually eaten in small wedges accompanied by Chinese tea.

While I was away, we celebrated the Mid-Autumn Festival here. Part of that is the consumption of vast numbers of mooncakes. I have something of a penchant for these delectable little pieces of scrumptiousness (yes, I know that's not a real word, but it should be!!). So, I asked that someone get me one as they have a very short shelf-life and once the festival is over, so is the supply of mooncakes.

I arrived back to not one mooncake! Nope, not one.... but SIX full-size and two minis. I personally am not keen on the eggs and tend to dig them out, but it doesn't do much on the calorie front as the egg's role is really to be a relief from heavy sweet lotus paste. "Usually eaten in small wedges"? A small wedge would never be enough for me. But I need to remember that one mooncake has reportedly close to 1,000 calories in it.

So I'll be sure to drink lots of Chinese tea!!

Apart from that I'm totally wiped out with jet-lag, too many time-zones in too few days. But I shall revive myself and get to work sorting out my pics into those that are not too blurry or dark (Rhona had major problems with her camera, it's a new one and she's not worked out the flash rules and so on).

I've a few tales to tell, memories to recount, snippets of my last two weeks to write about. And some affairs of the heart, too.

Walking the Streets of London

Well, streets and bridges to be precise. I got into London last night and after a few hours' sleep, and with it being a relatively warm and clear Sunday, I took a walk along the riverbank (north) then crossed over this bridge (The Millenium Bridge)


walked along the southbank and crossed back over this bridge (Westminster Bridge)

I've quite knackered myself out as the saying goes! Sitting here drinking a bottle of Marks & Spencers freshly squeezed lemons....soooooooooooo good!!! Next I'll be doing my London postcards so be ready all of you on my list.

Will be home on Tuesday and then sort out the photos, of which there are many and not all of them good. I did get Rhona into a grass skirt Ian, get yourself ready for that one.

Gosh I'll be glad to get home. I've missed you all.

Aloha from the Silent One

I promised pics and posts and I've done neither...sis and I are having a blast though!!! We have been out and about and enjoying so much. I'll post about it in a few days if things quiet down any!!!

Ian - I'm still trying the grass skirt thing, something has made sis a little shy but here are a few pics :

The view from the hotel balcony - that's the first day, it was a little cloudy but it has been sunny ever since!!

Sis and I riding the local bus to the north coast...to see the surfer dudes but unfortunately a weekday and small waves...not too many were about!!!

( updated - hahahahahahaha I realised that probably most of you won't know who is who - that's me on the left, with the sunkissed face :) )

Aloha and running out to do something else!!!!!!!!!!

Konnichiha from Tokyo

If I break into Japanese it`s because this damn keyboard has some hidden keys I tell you!!! Like the apostrophe is hidden somewhere and i`m having to use that reverse one.

Just waiting to board another plane like the one in the pic. Bless Yahoo for providing free unlimited internet access even though everything is in Japanese and there is nowhere to turn it into English so all the instructions even here on blogger are in Japanese, thank goodness I remember where everything is.

Beautiful departure from Hong Kong, the weather was lovely and we took the route right over the city, I waved to the office and passed over the apartment. Stupid me though didn`t take her camera out of her ONE handcarry item but I shall for the approach into Hawaii. Here it`s awful, grey wet, yukky. Am glad I`m only passing through!!!

Whiled away the four hours on the plane by watching two movies...or rather one and almost three-quarters of a movie...now I have to find Basic Instincts 2 to watch the final 20 mins. Actually upon reflection I may not bother.....dear oh dear Sharon you should have opted out of the sequel darling!! RV did have some very funny parts. I think I was annoying the person next to me with my chuckles and guffaws.

Soon onto another plane for 7-plus hours, I have a book, no doubt more movies and maybe a sleep. This time zone thing is too weird. I actually will arrive there before I left Hong Kong, basically I get to do my Tuesday twice. Once in the air and at airports, then once in paradise. Guess which one I really am looking forward to.

I think I might go and write some postcards and see if I can find a mailbox. But if you get them from Hawaii you`ll know why.

So now it`s .... sayonara from Tokyo. Next post will be aloha from Hawaii.

P.S. I didn`t mistype "konnichiwa", when you write it, it is konnichiHa. I learned that today.

Update:

Now THIS is what I'm tawkin bout:

Priorities ... Last-Minute Things ... and Minges

I'm down to 24 hours now and my last day at work. I see a big pile here, however I am already in the 'gone' mood and just can't seem to get worked up about it. Plus I work so well against very tight deadlines, so I can see myself chilling this morning and then working like a demon until 9 tonight!!

I'm about ready, purchased all the last-minute little bits n pieces, travel size toothpaste, travel size shampoo, travel size conditioner, extra-large sunscreen (that sounds like a protection garment when I put it like that!!), etc., etc., etc. I hate the baggage rules into and out of Europe and Asia, 20 kgs (44 lbs) total, while I can take two pieces into and out of the States and each of those can be up to 32kgs (50 lbs). IATA please explain yourself. And packing for two climates isn't going to be easy - tshirts and sweaters, flip-flops and boots. And it's not like sis and I can share, she's got a model's figure and I, well I haven't!

She's had a bad sinus infection so I asked if she's been to the doctor. I got this reply:

no time to go to the docs fion!!!.....i just hope it will clear.......am taking rhino blast at the mo which is pretty powerful but it aint shifting.......feel like me face is gonna explode........and so much to do......get me minge waxed.......load up on dog bikky.....get keys cut.....clean the flat and do loadsa washing.........ahhhhhhhh

As you can see, at the top of it is 'get me minge waxed'. Yes at the very top!! The woman has a serious sinus infection. Bad news for a) flying and b) as a professional diver she hasn't been able to work for a week thus depleting her holiday funds. But hey let's make sure the minge is waxed. She now says she'll try and get to the doctor before her 11am flight to London. Oh dear, she really does crack me up.

By the way my minge is travelling unwaxed.

The Dreaded Chili Prawn

These should come with a warning. Especially when consumed at 11pm on an empty stomach. I should have had lunch. I shouldn't have reached for my delivery book (yes, there's so much food delivery that the listings are in books) when I got home late and hungry.

But all I found in my fridge was three fuji apples. And this was not the kind of raging, gnawing hunger that any fuji would calm.

It's too damn easy in this town to get chili prawns delivered hot to your door at 11 o'clock at night. And they are way too good to resist even when I should have known better. Today I will eat lunch no matter how crazy my day turns out.

But right now I'm suffering from the revenge of the dreaded chili prawn and my tummy is in knots. I've had a couple of glasses of soya milk and I am hoping that will help. That and a handful of Maalox. Or two.

Update: Lunch today, California Rolls

My List So Far

'Scuse the terrible scrawl. As you can see, there's still room on my list so please yell out if there's anything Hawaiian or Scottish you'd like. I promise not to stalk you if you give me your address - I'm too far from anyone to do that anyway!!!

The plan is to photoblog while I'm away and as she's a dab hand with the camera, I'm sure my sister will make a fair contribution to the visuals (no LePhare, not due to her being in a grass skirt and coconuts...well OK OK that WOULD be quite a contribution!!)

Only four days to go until aloha och aye.

Aum...or Om

A - emerges from the throat, originating in the region of the navel U - rolls over the tongue M - ends on the lips ; A - waking, U - dreaming, M - sleeping. It is the sum and substance of all the words that can emanate from the human throat. It is the primordial fundamental sound symbolic of the Universal Absolute.

In fact, when correctly pronounced, or rather, rendered, the "A" can be felt as a vibration that manifests itself near the navel or abdomen; the "U" can be felt vibrating the chest, and the "M" vibrates the cranium or the head. The abdominal vibration symbolises Creation; It is interesting that the "creative" or reproductive organs are also located in the lower abdomen. The vibration of the chest represents Preservation, which is also where the lungs are situated (the lungs sustain or preserve the body through breath). The vibration of the head is associated with Destruction or sacrifice, since all that one gives up or destroys is first destroyed mentally. Hence, the entire cycle of the universe and all it contains is said to be symbolised in AUM.

An individual's "Aum" is the sound that can be held steady the longest per breath for the longest consecutive sequence of breaths. It is called "aum" in every culture that is aware of it because it sounds like that in all humans. The lower pitches are more suited because they require less muscular contraction of the abdomen, leading to lower rates of oxygen consumption, allowing for longer time between breaths. The Aum is the exact sound that is easiest for the individual to produce.

Once the minimization of oxygen consumption occurs (by minimization of muscular exertion), the outflow of air will be steady and quite sensitive to any forces that alter the amount of pressure in the chest cavity. One of the most notable consequences of this is that the rhythmic contractions of the heart become audible within the Aum.

Thus, by the use of Aum:
one can easily hear their own heart.
a person can modify the pace of their heart.
a group of people can synchronize their heartbeats.

It is such a beautiful sound....and the vibration all through your body is incredible. And today I need to Aum. I need to modify the pace of my heart.

Given To or Taken From?

Today, I understood something in such a different way, thanks to my dear friend Chele.

We were emailing a little about relationships and the like and Chele was in my life when, earlier this year, I lost someone so dear, so precious to me. Someone I loved. Today she said to me:

"There is a purpose for everything under the sun..we may not know what they are..but they have a reason and someday we will understand why..what happened to you was terribly sad and heartbreaking but for some reason James was put in your path..or maybe..Fiona.. YOU were put in his..to make his last time here..the best it could be..so that he could leave this world knowing real love. Thats what I think."

James and I had been friends for the longest time, online friends, telephone chat friends, for about five years when things changed between us. I'd just extricated myself from a two-year relationship and he was in the throes of making his own changes. Over the space of about six months we grew closer and closer together, we made plans for our future. In February, I travelled to Canada to spend some time with him. We were going to be together in June.

A month later he was in hospital for bypass surgery. It was supposed to be routine, well as routine as that can ever be. Over the phone, he comforted me, assured me there was nothing to worry about, after all we had so much to look forward to. "Just a little bump in the road", he would say to me.

I spoke to him only hours before he was to go into surgery. There I am in tears and he's making me smile. Describing to me, the beautiful view from the hospital window, of the mountains around Vancouver, of the water. Making me laugh with stories about his ward-mates, and telling me about the kindnesses of his nurses and doctors. That is just how James was, a wonderful, caring, warm, sensitive, beautiful man.

He came out of surgery into post-op care and the next day he coded. They revived him, he coded again and they got him back again. But not a third time. He was gone. Gone forever, gone from my then and gone from my future. Just suddenly gone. At 45. I never even got to hear his voice again. How I grieved for him, how I ached at the loss. How I cursed the gods for taking him from me. I was numb so deep inside.

And all this time I've been thinking, he was taken from me. But what Chele pointed out to me today is this. Maybe he wasn't taken from me, perhaps it was I who was given to him when he needed me. And because of that, it all seems so different. I can smile when I think of him now, not weep as much.

James wasn't taken from me when I needed him most, I was given to him when he needed me most. I was there in his life because he needed to know love, real love, before he left us. And I was there to give him that love and to let him feel loved.

Suddenly it all makes sense. Because for all these months I've been thinking of it as so totally senseless that I lost him. And now, instead, I understand why he found me.

Thank you Chele.

Update: where I spoke of James first.

Just for Chele - Hairy Coos!

Also known as Scottish Highland Cattle. But in the lingo they are 'hairy coos' and it must be said with the requisite Scottish burr!!

And if you ever thought that English is spoken in Scotland, check this out - I need an interpreter when I'm there.

Love for Love's Sake

As I have grown personally, I have found over the years that my ability to love has changed. As has my reason to love. I don't love based on availability, nor the love being returned. I love from my heart and soul when it feels right, not when it fits the parameters of a love that can be.

It's not always neat and tidy and pretty. Loving someone can be rough and ragged, with torn edges and wounds to heal elsewhere. It can cause as much hurt as it brings joy. Not everyone wins when two people grow in love together. And love doesn't always win. Sometimes obligation does. But, and I know this for a fact, obligation doesn't complete a person. Loving and being loved do.

We don't choose who we love, love happens to us. I have never targetted someone to love, I have just grown in love. The sad part is that for almost all of the men I've loved, there in the back of their minds was someone else they would rather have been with. I endured lovemaking always in the dark, I have been called someone else's name right at the moment it was really the last thing I wanted to hear. There is nothing more vile, more soul-destroying, than realising the man making love to you isn't making love to you at all. I have, I'm ashamed to say, found my way into the email account of a man I was involved with, to get the proof he was playing with me while still declaring his love for his ex-wife. He kept lying to me and I needed the truth. Another time, I convinced myself that a man loved me enough to make changes in his life, which in truth I knew he never would.

These have all been learning experiences for me, relationships that have helped make me grow and in so many ways, helped me respect myself a little more with each lost 'love'. I am glad that I've been strong enough to walk from the relationships that were damaging me, as well as the ones that didn't enrich me. I have been a bridge for some men to find bigger happiness elsewhere, and they, too, have sometimes been a bridge for me to a better awareness of what I am and wish to be.

I am walking into the future full of hope, full of conviction that there is a man out there who will not only love me for who I am, but adore me for what I am not, yet. I already know his name and he knows mine.

Walking Through - from my DailyOM

When Doors Open

When a door opens, walk through it. Trust that the door has opened for a reason and you have been guided to it. Sometimes we have a tendency to overanalyze or agonize over the decision, but it is quicker to simply go through the door and discover what's there as that's the only way to know. Even if it doesn't seem right at first, opening this door may lead to another door that will take us where we need to go.

Doors open when the time is right for us to enter a new space, metaphorically speaking, and we can have faith that walking through is the right thing to do. Sometimes we linger in the threshold because we are afraid of leaving our old life for a life we know nothing about. We may have voices inside of our heads that try to hold us back or people in our lives saying discouraging things. These voices, internal and external, are known as threshold spirits, and they express all the fears and doubts that arise at the beginning of a new life. Nevertheless, none of these voices can hold us back, and they will fall silent as soon as we cross the threshold.

There are many doors that open in the course of our lives, leading us into new relationships, jobs, friendships, and creative inspirations. Our lives up to this point are the result of all the doors we have walked through, and our continued growth depends on our willingness to keep moving into new spaces. Every time we walk through an open door, we create a sense memory that encourages us to move into the new fearlessly. When we enter the new space, we almost always feel a thrill and a new feeling of confidence, in ourselves and in the universe. We have stepped across the threshold into a new life.

Yes, I have had some thresholds I gladly, and sometimes madly, stepped over. Sometimes to find they didn't hold the promise I thought they would. But I do believe that each led to another, then another. And that all my thresholds have a purpose in my life. Even if I didn't recognise that purpose at the time.

I am still on my journey of where I need to go and where I am meant to be.

Touching .... and Being Touched

I'm a very tactile person. I like to touch in all ways. To reassure, to emphasise, to comfort, to bridge a gap. And most of all to show affection from my heart to the person I love. I crave the warmth of another body pressed into mine. I want to kiss and be kissed without boundaries.

I've never been involved with a tactile person. I suppose the closest I got was my ex-husband and he loved to touch, for an audience, but not when we were alone together. And he had HUGE intimacy issues, which led to the demise of our relationship.

The last guy I was involved with told me he loved to snuggle and kiss. And lo and behold I found that to be a total untruth. To the point I felt I was smothering him because when you do touch and caress and hug and snuggle and kiss, with a reluctant partner, that's how you feel. I was being me and expected from him what he'd told me and instead I ended up feeling so bad for being so tactile. So I did what one does, I adapted to his level of intimacy which was almost non-existant. I tried to make it work, despite these differences, for two years but had to admit defeat in the end. I want to be with someone who fires my soul, who drives my passion to an even higher level and all I got was, well, routine and structure and frankly so little excitement I couldn't even bring myself to want what little was offered.

We split up, mutually agreeing it was best, but he quickly decided he had lost something good and I'm not going to disagree with that! But I still need the man who will fire my soul, drive my passion and, quite honestly, leave me in a puddle on the floor. He will never do that for me. But he insists he is a changed person, he insists he knows he needs to be more tactile, to hold me, to kiss me, to cuddle with me. I listen and I really do appreciate he wants to try. But I don't want someone who has to TRY to love me and show his love for me.

I want someone who knows he loves me, who touches me and wants more, that even touching isn't enough to satiate his desires. I want a man who will possess me and let me possess him. I want a man to intertwine my heart and soul and mind and body with. I want a man who touches me no matter where we are, who will pull me to him and hold me as though the world is about to end. A man who can't get enough of me and who breathes fire through his nostrils with a need for me. I want a man with a heart and soul open to mine and god, my god, I want to be touched in every way possible. Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually.

I think I just met him.

Names, Tags, Numbers and Labels

Names
I know a man
Who drowns his sorrows in the cheapest booze
He knows he hasn't got that much to lose
Wino

Names
I know a man
Who speaks the language of another class
He sees nothin' in the looking glass
Phony

Names, tags, numbers, labels
Other people teach you what you are
You believe them as a rule
While my name for you is beautiful
Your name for me is fool

Tags
I know a kid
Somehow the ball game doesn't interest him
Isn't this where it all begins?
Sissy

Tags
She's twenty-five
She wants a family and a house to run
Her sister always was the pretty one
Lonely

Names, tags, numbers, labels
Other people teach you what you are
You believe them as a rule
While my name for you is beautiful
Your name for me is fool

Numbers
There's no escape
'cause time will do a number on us all
Your age is scrawled across the office wall
Old man

Labels
You gave me mine
At the time I took it casually
Is that all you really thought of me?
Sucker

Names, tags, numbers, labels
Other people teach you what you are
You believe them as a rule
While my name for you is beautiful
Your name for me is fool

Hm-hm-hm
Names, tags, numbers, hm, labels

~ Names, Tags, Numbers and Labels
by Albert Hammond and Mike Hazlewood ~

Labels - I go to work every day with all another kind of label screaming at me - Dior, Louis Vuitton, Tiffany, Christian Dior, Prada, Chanel, Bulgari, Chloe, Dunhill, Armani. The building where I work is surrounded by high-end retail opportunities.

Yes, I like the pretty things in life. Yes, I've looked in Tiffany's windows more than once and thought how wonderful to possess one or two of their trinkets. And yes, my spectacle frames are Prada, though I didn't know this until after the lenses were set as the identification is, unusually for Prada, very discreet. When I chose them they met my criteria of: bronze in colour, rectangular in shape and light in weight.

But to spend like some people do on items emblazoned with names that are supposed to represent some sort of exclusivity and indulgence in a world where there are still so many with so little, to me is obscene and more than a little disturbing. Especially when the purchase is made solely in order to display the labels of 'wealth'.

So my sister says to me....

"k den yo sistah we gonna grind and talk story and lesgo get us some mo bettah mokes and brok da mout grinds - don't you be giving me dat stink eye - ass right"

Meaning...ok Fiona, we'll eat and chat and let us go and find some better large local tough guys and eat delicious food - don't you look at me with a mean look - that's right.

I kid you not, a moke is a 'large local tough guy'. If nothing else, I'm sure she'll sweet talk some mokes into having their picture taken with us.

People...save me from my sister, she's already talking in the local lingo!!!! And she not only wants an aloha shirt, she wants the grass skirt and coconut shells too!!!!

OK anyone wanting a postcard from Hawaii and Scotland, email me your postal address.

Who we were really meant to be...

What we live with we learn...
What we learn we practice....
What we practice we become...
And what we become has consequences...
And almost always, I have found...
Who we become, has little to do with
Who we were really meant to be.....

~ Author unknown ~

I know that I learned from what I lived with. I practised what I learned. I became who I needed to become. And I know that who I became had consequences. And that those consequences led me to become someone I didn't want to be, someone I never planned on being.

But in knowing this, it gives me a certain freedom. A freedom not to be bound by any of it, any longer. A freedom to be who I was really meant to be. To finally abandon this hairshirt, my heavy cloak of expected behaviour and live as the person I want to be. The person I've always wanted to be. Happy and fulfilled. Loved as well as loving. Appreciated as well as appreciating. Gifted as well as gifting.

Finally at peace with becoming who I was really meant to be. So why am I not that person yet?

Nine Eleven

Today is dedicated to 9/11...September 11....gau yaht yaht (as it is referred to here)

In memory of those who perished, those who lost loved ones, those who found it too hard to go on afterwards.

And..to Bill, wherever you are. My thoughts, and my heart, are with you today.



updated at 4pm with photo essay

We Grow

We grow as the tree grows,

putting out new leaves in spring.
And through it all, the soul remains hidden,

adding ring upon ring upon ring...

~ Author Unknown ~

In getting to know me, someone is asking questions that are peeling back my rings. It really is amazing how we add on those rings from each 'spring' of our lives. And how it takes looking back to realise the way they were added. And what consitutes a ring.

I'd love to be able to take a section through my soul and examine the rings like we do with a tree. Analysing them to determine a rapid growth period, versus a slow one. Would life's tribulations appear as impact scars as they do on a tree?

I like this tree's soul because the centre is off-balance. As though one side developed normally, while the other took its time. That the more compact rings maybe represent a need to keep things tight inside. I can identify with it.

Or maybe the side that moved away from the centre was stretching out to something good and positive and oh so needed. While the other side wasn't sure and hesitated while each ring was added.

Being the Keystone

In architecture, a keystone is the stone at the top of an arch. It is the supporting element for the entire arch — without it the arch would collapse.

How many of us become the keystone in our relationships. Being the one thing that holds it all together. Sometimes enduring great sacrifice by having to take up that role, that all-important load-bearing role.

I suppose some of us would revel in that responsibility, that feeling of being indispensable. Some of us may even seek out that type of not-so-symbiotic relationship. I've been the keystone once and I really wouldn't like to be it again. I want a relationship where we share the importance of being the keystone. Yes, sometimes I will need to take on primary responsibility for keeping the arch intact. And sometimes I may need him to be the keystone in the whole thing.

But most of all, I want the joy of knowing that together we can hold this magnificent structure, this beautiful arch of our making, up together.

After Awhile You Learn

After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.

And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.

After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn...

~ Veronica A. Shoffstall ~

Aloha Och Aye

Well, it's done. Flights are booked for me approaching Honolulu from Hong Kong and my sister approaching it from Tenerife via London. That was QUITE the marathon. After deliberating about flying with her from London, I dropped that idea very quickly when I discovered I'd be flying (never mind ground time) for over 32 hours, to basically get somewhere that is about 10 hours from me!!

So we'll be meeting up in Honolulu rather than London. But then we'll fly back to London together and up to Edinburgh (then the train down to Berwick-upon-Tweed and by car back across the border into Scotland) to spend some time with our mum. We'll have 5 nights in Honolulu, 5 nights in Scotland and 2 nights in London. And various nights on an assortment of aircraft!

I can't deny that there is some guilt involved, she and I will be off holidaying together and spending time having fun, when those extra days could be spent with our mum. However, I think we both need and deserve a holiday too (knowing time in Scotland is never easy time) and we haven't been away together for over 20 years.

My sis works hard, earns next to nothing and takes care of the most precious things in my life - my dog and two cats. She has done that for the last five and a half years and in exchange I give her my apartment to live in. Even then, though, times are hard in her chosen profession. She works as a divemaster in the dive centre I set up and then sold, Aqua-Marina. So Hawaii is a little gift and to say she's stoked is an understatement, she's already learning the local lingo!! Expect photos, she's a natural with a camera.

What I'm not looking forward to is all the planes I'll be on:

Hong Kong to Tokyo
Tokyo to Honolulu
Honolulu to Denver
Denver to Chicago
Chicago to London
London to Edinburgh
Edinburgh to London
London to Hong Kong

And because of the fact it's cheaper to buy a round trip than a one-way ticket, I'm holding Hong Kong to London and London to San Francisco sectors which I can't use on this trip. Methinks another trip will be up my sleeve before too long!

From Aloha



To Och Aye

Overwhelmed

By everythingness and nothingness.

Work is overloading me that's for sure. And it doesn't look like it will improve anytime soon. I have vacation time coming up and that always stresses me into worrying how things will be done before I go, and then worrying me that I'll be away when something needs to be done. About 10 days ago I was at melting point. I was at a place where it felt like it was tumbling down around me and I didn't know how to deal with it. But I've managed to shore it up again. It took me an hour on Friday night (after pulling a 15-hour day) to just get things sorted into folders from the pile that had erupted on my desk that day.

My heart feels pulled in every which direction. People have come into my life. Then left it. Then want back in. Why didn't they just stay in the first place? Am I a 'filler' yet again when things go wrong for them? I ask myself why do they keep coming back and sniffing at the door. For some I know why and it has nothing to do with the heart, more to do with basic financial needs being met. And I will not be anyone's bank account - not again anyway. And then there is a newness about some feelings and they, too, scare me a little. Why can't I just relax and let what will be, just be.

I spoke with my mother the other day and her voice is getting worse (she has a cancerous growth next to her vocal chords) and I fear for her. In ways I didn't fear for my dad, maybe because she will never let us in. At least he did, he let us feel his pain and his fear, he let us 'participate'. How awful to want to participate in a parent's death but it really did help knowing every step of the way what was happening and how he was feeling and what he needed from us.

And you know there is nothing that I shouldn't be able to handle, nothing that I can't handle. So why this feeling? Over the weekend I felt dizzy, and yet not dizzy, just off balance, physically. Like I was toppling over. Almost a feeling of being hung over. And as I don't drink, it certainly isn't due to that. I feel I've been pushed off my axis. I'm discombobulated. And plain overwhelmed when I should be able to cope.

Too much everythingness and in reality it's nothingness.

Me, I'm getting older and I'm plain

As plain can be

Got a bank full of mother's dreams

Maybe mother just didn't see

That love would be the only thing

Her daughter would ever need

Oh, I am the heart not taken

I am the late blooming rose

The one thought not worth breakin'

With only her mother's dream to hold

Who really knows

On this less travelled road

...Maybe the hearts not taken

Are truly made of gold

~ Nanci Griffith ~

Where I does not exist, nor you

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.


~ Pablo Neruda ~
100 Love Sonnets (Sonnet XVII)


Probably my favourite poem of all time. If it sounds familiar, you may be recalling it as the poem Robin Williams' character reads to his wife in the movie "Patch Adams".