Tamiflu blues - or what I have learned traveling on a bus with 32 teenagers through Poland.

More than 2 weeks ago I got into a bus with 32 teenagers, one other teacher and a few parents travelling to Poland and Germany to revisit the grim history of the World War II. We were excited and ready to have the trip of a lifetime. And it sure was!

I had actually written a very long detailed post about the trip, but realized that it would probably not be a very interesting read. So instead I decided to sum up the things that I have learned that has nothing to do with history:

1. After 12 hours in a bus your ass goes numb and every part of your body aches. Do not try to walk quickly off the bus, you will stumble and fall. And people will laugh.
2. Planning to not eat chocolate during 8 days on a bus is inhuman. You might fill a whole bag with fruits, müsli, wheat germ crackers and low fat cheese.... after a while these things will just make you grumpy!
3. NEVER fall asleep! If you do, some obnoxious teenager will take your picture with your mouth open drooling on your pillow. And yes, they will post it on Facebook.
4. In spite of being obnoxious, teenagers are pretty awesome to be around!
5. Do not assume that the weather in Central Europe will be more pleasing than in Scandinavia. Expect snowstorms and bring your rain-boots. Do not be too vain to wear a rain poncho.
6. Teenager girls will wear whatever is cool and not take your advice. Don't even bother telling them to bundle up!
7. If you wear rain-boots for a day, your feet will smell no matter how clean your socks. Don't expect the people around you to be happy when you take them off in the bus. And no, perfume will not cover it up!
8. Do not buy 60 crystal glasses in Krakow and expect to carry them yourself through a blizzard while you have to pee. It's impossible.
9. You don't need 60 crystal glasses!
10. If you want to buy 60 crystal glasses anyway you have to sweet-talk the bus driver. Buying him cake works.
11. Do NOT leave your iPhone on a restaurant table in Poland. It will disappear.
12. Life without an iPhone is pretty miserable.
13. There is nothing fun about bathroom breaks when you are 40 people on a bus.
14. If you tell people inside a salt-mine that the walls and floors are made of salt, some will actually try to lick it. Go figure...
15. When one teenager gets sick it feels like 10, when 30 teenagers get sick... Make sure you bring a nurse on your trip!
16. Polish Homeopathic medicine will NOT cure the Swineflu, no matter what that Polish doctor says.
17. If your head hurts, your throat is sore, your body aches and you have a fever... don't assume it's just a cold. Just face it... it's the Swineflu.
18. Finding 160 doses of Tamiflu in Berlin is almost impossible! Bring your own.
19. Do not carry 2 plastic bags full of Tamiflu into a hotel. They hotel staff will freak out!
20. When everyone is sick, no one will remember your birthday.
21. When no one remembers your birthday you feel miserable and unloved, even though you should be old enough to not care. Next time forget modesty and just tell everyone it's your birthday!
22. When enough bad things happen, you are exhausted and feel like crap, there is nothing left to do but laugh. Laughing is a good way to combat insanity.
23. Trying to get teenagers not to mingle with other teenagers on a ferry... Still haven't found out how to do that!
24. If you are on a bus with 32 teenagers and experience an outbreak of the Swineflu, you will be quarantined at home for 7 days.
25. Quarantine is good.
26. 7 days is not enough. You'll need a month!

The Return

As she walked down the sloping driveway she looked up at the colossal white building. Did she really used to live here? She couldn't pinpoint exactly what was different, but there were little things, subtle changes. The walls were no longer the soft grayish white that her dad had found through trial and error. Now the house gleamed with a bright white paint that made it look even bigger. The windows were like black eyes starring at her without blinking. Gone were the white lace curtains that her mom used to starch in water and sugar. The curtains had been old-fashioned even 30 years ago, but they covered the blackness like sheer eyelids. Along the driveway were large urns filled with pink geraniums. Pretty, but her mom had always planted red ones.

In front of the garage there were two cars. Theyt looked brand new. Both were spotless and she could see her reflection in the dark metallic paint that had a sort of bluish tint. She smiled as she remembered the red beetle that her parents used to drive. It had always looked so out of place in front of this huge house. These two cars looked like they belonged. Maybe they had bought them just to match the house. She giggled and starred at her reflection half waiting to see that little girl with the thin pixie hair. But of course she didn't.

She walked up to the front door. It was made of dark wood with leaded glass windows in rich colors. In an instant she remembered the day she came home from school with the brass key on a red woolen string around her neck and saw the glass shattered and the door opened. Being young and not very smart she had walked right inside. The whole house had been torn apart, but all she could remember was her mom's vase lying on the floor. Red tulips scattered all over the carpet adorned by the sharp pieces of broken crystal. She knew her mom would cry.

As she rung the doorbell she heard the sound she knew so very well. She gave a short laugh as she recalled how she would run to the door when that doorbell rang. She had always hoped that it would be someone asking for her. Someone to play with. But it never was. No one ever came to her house. So she got used to playing alone and the house had been her playground. She knew every secret place in this house, from the basement to the attic.

An elegant woman in beige opened the door with a strained smile. "Oh, you are here!" was all she said, not offering a name or a hand. "Come inside", she said with her back already turned.

Stepping into the hall she felt a rush of emotions. The blue carpet was no longer there. And the periwinkle blue brocade wallpaper was gone. Not so strange really. There had been faint red stains on that wallpaper after she had decided to decorate it with red flowers one day her parents were out. To her it looked much prettier, but her parents did not agree. She remember how they had both tried to clean it off with different remedies for hours. She had been sent to her room. They never got the stains out completely, but they didn't put up a new wallpaper either. It remained there for years as a testimony that a child lived and played in this house.

Now the walls and floors were covered in stark white. Beautiful, clean white. It looked like right out of a magazine. Still to her it was cold and uninviting. Walking passed the curved stairways, she looked up. There, at the top of the stairs, behind the banister, was one of her secret places. It's where she used to hide at night when she couldn't sleep. She would bring her pillow and lay down on the floor listening to the voices of her parents. Happy voices, voices that were soft and loving even when she could hear the presence of worry in her mom's faint words. The comfort of those voices would often lull her to sleep. Every now and then her dad would walk up the stairs and cradle her in his strong arms. To her delight he would not put her back into bed, but carry her downstairs into the candlelit living room. It was the best feeling in the world. The feeling of being included in the happiness that her parents shared. Dad would place her in the big sofa and her mom would make hot chocolate and sandwiches. She always served the hot chocolate in the large white cups with purple saucers. It was the only time they used those cups. She hadn't seen them in years.

The beige lady beckoned her to follow her into the kitchen. Of course it had been remodeled. No one would have wanted to keep the old kitchen. She remember how embarrassed she used to be when they had guests at their house. The guests would walk through all the beautiful rooms and admire the house until they walked into that kitchen. Then they would go silent. And stare. It was a crazy kitchen. Her parents had decorated it just before she was born in 1968. It had the loudest wallpaper you could imagine. Bright white vinyl wallpaper with huge blood-red flowers. (Sort of early Marimekko.) It was one of those things that just captured your eyes and would not let them go. To finish it off her parents had covered the ceiling with it as well. When you walked into that kitchen you were surrounded by cocoon of big red flowers everywhere. She used to hate it. Now as she looked at the discrete gold and ivory striped wallpaper, she almost burst out laughing. What a change!

She realized that she missed it. She missed the tacky red flowers. She missed the blue brocade wallpaper with the red stains. She missed her house with all the secret places and childhood memories. She missed her parents and missed the life that was lived in this house.

There were no signs of a child living, playing or dreaming in this place any more. There were no signs of the past. And no signs of a present. It was all perfection, but it was no longer home. She had thought about this house for so long. When it was sold she had such a feeling of loss. And all these years she had believed that she would be happy living here again. Suddenly she realized that it was not the house that had made her happy. It was the love.

The lady reached for a brown cardboard box place on the shiny granite countertop. "I believe this is yours," she said with a quick smile as she lifted it up. It was heavy. "We found it in the attic a few months ago. We thought it belonged to you." She handed over the box and started moving toward the hallway. It was clear that the visit was over and that the lady was ready to say goodbye. Walking through the beautiful house one more time, she felt the bittersweetness of goodbyes. This house was no longer hers. It belonged to someone else. And now it was up to her to make her small house a happy place for her family. As she walked back up the driveway she turned one more time looking at the impressive house with the black hollow eyes. For a split second a memory flashed before her eyes and she saw the three of them, laughing and playing on the lawn. She smiled and when she turned towards the road she knew she would never come back.

In her own kitchen, a very simple white Ikea kitchen, she opened the box. Inside were objects wrapped in soft creamy silk paper. She picked up one of the objects and started to carefully unwrap it. It was a purple saucer. One by one she unveiled her mother's special porcelain service. She placed the cups and saucers on the counter and looked around at the white walls of her kitchen. It was time to make this house her home!

I was challenged to write a story called the Return by La Belle Mere. Please visit her for more examples of creative writing.

I love you because....

I love you because...

• you make me laugh - often and loud!
• you are patient and slow to anger.
• you are selfless and always thinking about what is best for your family.
• you make a great tacosalad (and so many other meals too).
• you love me for who I am and have never tried to change me.
• you are calm and levelheaded.
• you are wise and kindhearted.
• you get up with the kids most mornings and never complain about it.
• you are loyal and trustworthy.
• you are truthful and honest.
• you always give me the top half of your dinner rolls (the best part!).
• you believe in me.
• you do everything you can to provide for us and spare me from worrying.
• you are friendly with everyone.
• you are just a likable guy.
• you love God and want to live your life serving Him.
• you do your work with excellence and always strive to be better.
• you put up thousands of christmas lights just to make me happy.
• you have the most beautiful hands I know.
• you scratch my back so that I can go to sleep.
• you don't complain that I stay up too late at night.
• you want me to have the best of everything.
• you watch chick-flicks with me and enjoy it!
• you have been a rock in times of trouble.
• you are strong when I am week.
• you are not afraid to be vulnerable.
• you have made my family yours and shared your family with me.
• you encourage me to follow my dreams.
• you think that I am good at my job.
• you compliment me as a mother and woman when I feel like crap.
• you make me a better person.
• you are a wonderful dad.
• you're a good kisser.
• you show me that you love me in everything you do.
• you have never made me feel unworthy of your love.
• you want to make me happy.
• you are my soulmate.
• you make this journey called life so much sweeter.

As we are celebrating our 15th Anniversary I just want to say to you that I love you more each day. Thank you for loving me and sharing your life with me. The best is yet to come!

I was given a gift

I have always been a daddy's girl. Even as a little girl my dad was my very first love affair. He was the most handsome man I knew. I proclaimed confidently that I was going to marry him when I grew up. My mom could stay on as a housekeeper, and she would have to sit in the backseat of the car. As I became a teenager, that crush faded of course. But he still remained my closest confidant. I told him about the first time I got drunk. I told him about my first kiss.

And when I became a young woman I relied on his guidance in the most important decisions in my life. Even now as a mother and wife, my dad still has a very special place in my heart and in my life. He has taken me to fabulous places like Rome, Venice, Barcelona and London. He is the one that loves to shop and brings me along for those great shopping sprees. He gives me advice and encourages me to reach my goals. He is more than just DAD, he is my FRIEND.

13 years ago my mom died of cancer. It was heartbreaking for me and my dad. How was life going to go on without her? But it did. Time heals most wounds and we found a way to move on. If anything it brought us even closer together. Then two years ago we got the terrible news that my father had prostate cancer. A year of intense treatments, fear, hope, pain and buckets of tears followed. What a joy when we received the message that he was cancer free!

And so time went on.

This summer the news of his relapse hit me like a ton of bricks. How could it be? The doctors told us that the prognosis for prostate cancer is good as long as it hasn't spread to the bones. But for a year my dad had had terrible pain in his legs and lower back. The fear totally overwhelmed him. Me too, but I tried so hard not to let it show. I kept on encouraging him, telling him that he would be fine. At night I would sniffle into my pillow and pray.

Last week he took the much dreaded test: a bone scan. It would reveal if the pain he was suffering meant that the cancer had spread. It would mean the difference between life and death.

And so we waited...

How can I describe this week? I don't think I can. Balancing on the edge of a cliff just waiting for the news that would push me over. At work and at home I tried to put up a brave face. When no one was looking I would hide in the bathroom and just cry! If I was alone at my desk I would put my face down in between my arms and sob. Then drying off the tears and running down to my teenage students for another lesson. It was a week that lasted a month. My dad was without any hope and he was terrified. So was I.

Yesterday we got the results. The cancer had not spread. The doctor told him that he will be able to live with this for many years. Good years!

So the gift I was given was TIME. Time with my dad. And for that I'm eternally grateful.

Letting go

I look down at her golden hair

tied neatly back with a pink bow

She cried when I put it in this morning

now all the tears are gone

Her little warm hand in mine

the softness of her palm

I can just hear her faint whisper:

Don't leave me alone here, mom!

Biting her lip she stares at the others,

her deep green eyes darting around

That slight wrinkling of her brow that she

gets when she is worried

A shiver of anticipation and excitement,

her new shoes shuffling gravel on the ground

I bend down and caress her face

drinking in the sweet aroma of my girl

Toothpaste and shampoo

peanut butter and jelly

Closing my eyes I exhale and cradle her

deep into my soul, not wanting to let go

Wait! I'm not ready

Give me another chance to do it again

But she pulls away from my safe arms

and runs toward the stairs

I see her pink backpack bouncing

and my heart leaps

just as she turns and waves

and smiles

and then she is gone...

Just An Ordinary Sunday

It's Sunday and I woke up late. Looking out of the window I realized it was just an ordinary Sunday here in Norway. It wasn't raining, but it wasn't sunny either. It was a little windy, but not too cold to eat breakfast outside on the terrace. Nothing special happening today. Just a lot of practical things to do before school starts tomorrow. But we did manage to go for a short walk down to the small harbor and have some waffles and ice-cream. I guess an ordinary Sunday isn't so bad...

Oh, and suddenly the sun came out. Didn't last too long, but at least I got to take this picture:

I wish you all a very happy ordinary week!

I promised a new Giveaway. Take a look at Sweeter Homes and you'll find it there!

Why Cate Blanchett Is So Skinny

It's been a great summer here in Spain. As there are only a few days left of our vacation my husband and I sat down and had a serious discussion. There were decisions that had to be made, choices we had to ponder and they were important:

Where to eat these last couple of days?
Which restaurants had we not had time to try yet?
Which restaurants did we want to visit again?
How could we find the time to visit them all?
Maybe we shoud go out for both lunch and dinner?


These are important questions in a food-lovers family. And the reason none of us are SKINNY.


The talented Cate Blanchett is SKINNY! She is really, really SKINNY. Have you ever wondered why?


I watched Cate Blanchett on Oprah. Oprah asked her if she had any favorite foods. Cate looked at her with a puzzled expression. Favorite foods? This seemed like the most difficult question she had ever been asked. After much thinking she shook her head slightly and explained that she had for a while been really into müseli. She only ate müseli for a couple of years! But was it her favorite... no, not really. It was clear that Cate had never ever in her life thought about what her favorite food was. This intrigued Oprah as much as it did me and she kept on asking: "Well, if you had ONE LAST MEAL, what would it be?" Again Cate looked at her with bewilderment. You could see her mind spinning trying to find the right answer... after all she was on Oprah. After a couple of seconds she said hesitantly: "If it was my last meal I guess I would have a bowl of WHITE RICE!"


And that my girls, is the reason why Cate Blanchet is so skinny!

Warning: Careful with the battery acid

Okay, I promised I would share another embarrassing story. For those of you who have read the Biker Chic, you know what I'm talking about. If you haven't read it you can A) click on the link B) just keep on reading here.

I was 21. I had spent the New Year's weekend at a youth conference with my best friend and two guys (don't even remember their names... Yikes, again that "blocked out of my memory kind of thing") The conference was in Sweden and we were going back to Norway. (8 hour drive)

My car had had some problems on our trip, but the nameless guys had taken care of it. Now everything seemed to work fine. We were laughing and just excited to get home. My friend and I sat in the backseat (in my car... go figure)

I was AGAIN wearing a maxi skirt, not black this time. I was out of the Madonna face and more into bohemian romantic at this time....

We had been driving for a long time and finally we saw the boarder between Sweden and Norway. We decided to do a quick stop at the gas station. I said I would get everyone an ice cream and ran inside.

I spotted the ice cream freezer. I leaned over and looked at the choices. Over at the cash registry a big group of young guys were talking and laughing wildly. I didn't pay them much attention, since my focus was now completely on the ice cream!

It's not easy to chose between so many different flavors and it took me a couple of minutes to make my mind up. The group of young men were still over at the other side of the station now completely cracking up. Unconsciously I went to pull down my sweater a little bit in the back when I noticed - WHERE WAS MY SKIRT?

My hand frantically tried to figure out what was going on back there... I felt a HUGE hole in my skirt - and my pantyhose... I could feel my cotton underwear. Throwing the ice cream back into the freezer and desperately trying to cover up my exposed butt, I ran out of the gas station just casting a glimps over at the young men that were now almost keeling over and pointing at me!

Outside the gas station there were plenty of cars and I headed over towards my ride. At this time the idiot guys with no names that were driving MY car decided to "play" with me by accelerating the second my hand touch the door handle. They drove about 50 yards and I ran after yelling for them to stop. When I finally came over, they pulled that same stupid stunt again! Here I was, running around the gas station, with an exposed bum sticking out of my frigging skirt!

When they finally stopped I was bawling! Yes, crying my eyes out like a little girl. The guys looked at me with surprise and then they saw my skirt. Their eyes widened and they went silent. I was now trying to regain some dignity (a little late) and said that I had no clue how half my skirt had evaporated. The two guys mumbled something that I didn't really understand. Neither of them looked me in the eye. "What did you say?" I asked trying to grasp the meaning. "We changed the battery and left the old battery in the backseat. The battery acid must have poured out of it and soaked up your seat..." GREAT! I had been sitting in battery acid for 5 hours!

Lessons learned:

1. Battery acid will MELT your synthetic skirt and your panty hose - if you're lucky it won't melt your cotton underwear!

2. When people are laughing behind your back, check if your butt is exposed

3. If you find yourself at a gas station with an exposed butt, DO NOT run after your car yelling. This will only attract more attention. Stay put with your behind against the wall until the stupid adolescent nitwits decide this is not a fun game.

4. I have found out that baking soda will neutralize battery acid - always carry baking soda! Sprinkle it around areas that might have been exposed.

5. Don't fret when you are totally humiliated - it'll make for a fun post on your blog 20 years later!

Biker Chick- my date with Mr Harely

Yesterday I spotted a beautiful black and silver Harley. It looked very powerful and sexy and it brought back some crazy memories...

I have only ridden on a Harley once.

It was the summer of 89. I was 19 and on vacation in Spain.

Very young and kind of infatuated with this incredibly handsome (I thought so... must have been intoxicated) Spanish man that drove a Harley and always looked like he was bored. Actually, I don't remember his name... weird, must have blocked it out!

So finally one day he asked me for a date. *swoon*

I happily agreed and got ready for the big night. I wore a black corset top and a black maxi skirt and tons of necklaces and bracelets... (I know, sad Madonna copy! I think I even had a rhinestone cross...)

Squidoo.com

Yep, wore all of the above!

Did I mention I wore a black maxi skirt?

Something like this...

Eagerly I met him on the beach walk (Paseo Marítimo). Hey, I had forgotten all about the Harley! Now he gestured for me to get on. Get on a Harley! I didn't even know how to do that. So with very little grace and much awkwardness I climbed on and placed my hands around his waist. Mmmm... kind of nice. He slowly road along the beach walk and I felt like such a cool babe passing all the restaurants on the way. I even saw a couple of familiar faces looking at me with envy. Me, the biker chick!

Photobucket.com

Then we hit a crossing road and he started accelerating a little more... still kind of fun and exciting. The wind was blowing my hair (helmets are for sissies...right) and I grabbed on a little harder. Then he suddenly turned left and we hit the highway... OH, MY GOD! In about 2 seconds he was doing 160 km (100 miles) an hour and I could barely hold on to his waist. My hair was now almost being pulled off, my contact lenses dried up in about 10 seconds and I could hardly breath. Now, blind and without the ability to scream, I started PRAYING: "Pleeeease don't let me die! Pleeeease don't let me die! Goooood! Pleeeease don't let me die! Pleeeeease!" I could see myself lying in a pool of blood and crumbled up steel in a ditch somewhere. I have never been so scared my whole life! So I just kept on praying, trying to get this IDIOT to slow down. But I didn't dare to move my hands and he didn't hear my faint gasps for help, so he just kept going.

Live to ride? Yeah, right! Ride and DIE you mean!

Then something happened... the motor seemed to make little weird noises and you could feel it run uneven. NOW he started getting worried. He slowed down and pulled off the highway and started to slowly drive down some small city streets. I was regaining my voice by this time and my sanity, just thanking God that I was still alive. My date was muttering angrily about something being wrong with his bike. Every time he tried to accelerate the motor would start coughing! Very slowly he drove back to the Beach Walk and stopped in front of the restaurant where we were eating. Finally, I had survived! Thank you GOD!

As he got of the bike I could see the worry and frustration on his face as he was plundering about what was wrong. With little affection he reached his hand out to help me off the bike and as I lifted my behind to get off I felt a strange pull... What? I couldn't really get off the bike! As I looked down (simultaneously as my date) I saw to my horror that my black maxi skirt had been SUCKED into the exhaust pipes! And being of a nice synthetic material my skirt had melted and gotten stuck to that hot steel... YIKES!

My no longer so handsome date (his eyeballs almost falling out of the sockets) started cursing (in spanish ... I knew enough to blush) and yelling. He started tugging at the skirt to get it out of the exhaust pipes and my skirt had an elastic waistband! So as he was pulling frantically I felt my whole skirt being pulled off my but and exposing my underwear. I grabbed hold of the waist of the skirt and tried to pull it back up. He kept pulling it down. At the same time I was trying to keep my balance on the huge Harley. Now this would have been a horrible experience if it happened outside your house, I was on the BEACH WALK! Hundreds of people passing by! And within seconds a huge crowd of people started gathering watching this funny tug of war. I was MORTIFIED!

Finally, with a ripping sound, I could feel my skirt escape from the iron grip of the Harley. The people around us actually started to applaud! I managed to wiggle down from the huge black monster with no help whatsover from "Mr Charming". It was a sad sight! Since my skirt had actually melted, I had big holes around on both sides going all the way up to my thighs! Now with a crowd watching I tried to brush of my total humiliation and give a little shallow laugh. The brainless thug looked at me with a sort of mixture of disgust and fear (is she totally nuts?) and said: "Guess dinner is off, huh?" With a sort of shrug and gesturing to my skirt he obviously thought that I was going to run home and hide, but NO - it was payback time! "OH, I'm fine" I answered again with that crazy little laugh. "This is just the latest fashion", I said and pointed to my skirt. "I'm hungry!" I straightened my back, pulled myself together, tried to brush back my hair and put up a fake smile. I'm in awe that I actually did this - what a cool chic!

But totally out of my mind of course! What was I thinking!

Mr NOT SO HOT couldn't believe his ears, he now figured he was on a date with a total lunatic. Hello, I just wrecked his beloved bike. He was fuming and probably wanted to slap me. But there were so many people watching he just nodded and went sort of shelled shocked into the restaurant. I came stumbling in about five steps behind him. And I actually had a 3 course meal, with wine. I have no idea what I ate, or what we talked about. We probably didn't... It was totally PAINFUL! It was like pulling teeth whit a plumbing wrench. Still, for some strange reason I needed that closure. So when I finished the meal I got up (leaving him with the check), smiled again (incredible, should have become an actress!) and gave that podgy weak-chinned thin-haired eye-protruding STUPID dumbass (sorry!) a wave. I think I said something in the line of : "See you around!"

Didn't go on a second date and never rode a Harley EVER again!

Had to borrow this one from thefrisky.com

Now, I actually managed to go through another skirt-melting experience equally embarrassing a few years later. (I must be the only girl in the world!) Would you like to read about it?

Shoes, shoes, shoes! (or how I got thrown out of the shoe store by an angry italian "babe"...)

Well, for those of you who read my post yesterday Walking the red carpet you got a glimps of one of my favorite pair of shoes - my beloved GEOX sandals. (In silver) I'll tell you more about those another day - promise! But anyway, they got me thinking... Maybe I should do a Pink Saturday Post about pink shoes? That would be a winner! So for the pink-loving ladies that visit me from Beverly's blog here we go:

Shoes, shoes, shoes

or my subtitle : How I got thrown out of the shoe store by an angry italian babe

I don't have any pink shoes myself (a pair of pink Converse... a long time ago), but I knew just the store to find them. Right here in Spain they have an italian store named Psyco - yeah, I know, it's all in the name! (It turned out to be quite fitting too...) Where would I find better shoes for my post? So off I went - with my descrete little camera - to take some pictures of shoes that had that special, let's say pisazz...

Now inside Psyco you'll only ever see VERY slim, tanned, bleached blond or raven black haired women in skinny white jeans and tight tops that have glitter on them and are just short enought that you can see a little diamond in their bellybutton when they strech to get a shoe off the top shelf. They wear designer sunglasses in their hair, Gucci on their arm and usually have a much older husband (lover?) in tow... The girls that work there look exactly the same, minus the husband of course!

The Look

(this is Victoria B and NOT a real customer, but this is The Look...)

So maybe I looked a little out of place? With my 5 year old in tow (in lew of the husband), salty beachhair (neither blond, nor raven), plastic bags from the grocery store (in lew of Gucci), NOT skinny white jeans (for reasons you'll understand later...) and absolutely NO glitter on my top or diamond in my bellybutton. I did have a pair of designer sunglasses in my hair though! Should have made them treat me better, I think!

Well, the even skinnier than usual girl came over to me and took about 5 seconds while she stared at me letting her dark eyes scan my whole body, up and down and up and down - and then with a frown (REALLY!) she asked: Dsooo jouuu vant anising ere? It was clear that she thought I could never in a million years wear any of their shoes. (Actually, she was pretty right about that - I would NOT even be able to walk over to the mirror in most of the shoes there. But she could pretend, couldn't she?)

"Tiiiis are schooos for schpesial vomen and schpesial ocashions", she proclaimed with one perfectly plucked eyebrow all the way up to her hairline. (Probably one of their slogans, but coming from her it sounded like an insult. Why wouldn't she think I was a special woman that had LOTS of special occasions to attend?)

I tried to brush of the insult and smiled as sweetly as I could. "I'm writing about shoes on my blog and would love to take a few pictures!" The girled starred at me as if I was crazy: "Tat is forbidden!" She actually yelled! And all the other customers (two of the above mentioned type) turned and looked at me as if I had asked to sniff her shoes or maybe borrow a pair. "No pictures and NO riting about tis schtore - it is forbidden!" she repeated this time a little louder even. I felt like the worst criminal and tried to redeem myself with a humble look while I mumbled: "Sorry, I'll just have a look around then..."

Now the friggin little wasp (sorry, I was getting pretty angry by this time) started pushing me against the exit while she kept snarling at me: "Go avay! No pictures!" Gee, I had gotten that point by now! Then she added the words that made me go a little over the edge: "Go avay I say - no pictures. Tiiis are not schooos for biiiiig ladies!"

I couldn't believe my ears! I grabbed my camera and started taking pictures while that little tiny italian babe tried to push me through the doorway with little success. Her 5 inch heels were sliding on the slippery tile floor and her little twig arms didn't stand a chance...

HA! Sometimes it's good to be a "big lady"!

I'm usually not the one to bend the rules and cause a scene, but give me a break!

So here are my FORBIDDEN shots of crazy pink shoes! (And a few others that I managed to take on my way out....)

Now this pair isn't pink, but I love turquoise and these are kind of cool (in an over-the-top kind of way). They have wedge heels so I think I could probably walk for a couple of hundred yards. Too bad I can't go back and try them on!

Happy Pink (psyco) Saturday to everyone!

Walking the Red Carpet

Do you remember the beginning of Notting Hill when you see Julia Roberts walk down the red carpet, looking absolutely gorgeous,while a meteor shower of flashes go off lighting up her face and that smile? (To the sound of "She" by Elvis Costello of course.) I love that beginning...

I'm always a little bit fascinated by watching stars on the red carpet. They look so glamorous and put together - like they have the world on a string and are sitting on a rainbow (to quote "ol' blue-eyes."...) With their confident smiles (always very white) and designer clothes they know exactly how to pose to make their booty look small and their bust look perky! (Not the men of course... they just have to "suck it in".)

While they strut along the carpet with someone beautiful (but not too beautiful - this is not the time to be outshone) on their arm I cannot help but wonder HOW they feel...

Do they fill thrilled and excited? Do they feel drop-dead-gorgeous and adored? (Do you Julia?) Are they worried about their heels getting caught up in their dress or having left overs from dinner (at the Ivy) stuck between their teeth? Are they anxious about loosing that 2 million dollar bracelet they borrowed from Bvlgari or are they thinking of ways to nick it? (I really don't know what happened... I went to the bathroom and put on some makeup...wait, I think I saw Wynona Ryder right next to me!)

Do they worry that the others have better dresses or even worse: the same dress (yikes!)? (Never happens to Cher I bet! Or Ellen DeGeneres....) Are they having second thoughts about that pink tutu, or the swan wrapped around their neck (Hello Bjørk! What were you thinking?) Or maybe they are concentrating very hard on NOT breathing so that the pearl buttons on their corset-top don't come flying off like bullets giving Joan Rivers a black eye (another excuse for a little medical fixer-upper...) Bet that would be a sure way to get slaughtered by Joan and her charming daughter Melissa on Entertainment tonight!

Are they trying to suppress the look of utter shock that Victoria has lost another 10 pounds or that their former boyfriend is there with Ashley Tisdale (Who is she anyway?) Maybe they think about how much those 2000 dollar Louboutins HURT (Why are all expensive shoes SO excruciating? Is that some kind of rule.. the higher the price, the harder the sacrifice?)

Do they manage to hide the look of surprise when they see that their seat is WAY behind Jessica Simpson's? Maybe they frown a little about the huge crush they had on Mickey Rourke in the 80s having watched 9 and 1/2 weeks ten times? (Look at him now ladies! Not everything gets better with age... Sorry, Joan, that's just the facts of life!)

Are they thinking about how Tom Cruise really is quite short or that Oprah must have gained a few? Are they worried about their three kids at home with the two nannies that only speak thai and mandarin? Or are they secretly calculating the next house payment on their new Bel Air mansion? Do they feel jealous that their husband is casting a second glance at Nathalie Portman (who can blame him..) or excited that Johnny Depp whispered something in french right into their ear (Probably "move over fat cow", but everything sounds sexy in french...)

Next time you watch the Oscars, watch the stars and imagine what they are REALLY thinking an feeling... It makes the show so much more enjoyable!

As for me... I don't know if I'll ever walk the Red Carpet. But I did walk through an underground parking lot in Marbella the other night. I looked down and saw that right through the grey concrete there was a wide red line (just like a carpet). As I was about to walk over to our Masarati (No, just kidding... Opel Zafira... with bumps) I realized that it looked like I was actually walking the red carpet. I grabbed my iphone, got ready to take a picture... and suddently a car backed out with it's bright lights casting a magic beam over my feet! It looked like spotlights and I got the perfect shot!

So here are my feet on the red carpet bathed in the lights of a fancy car ... what I was feeling? Can't remember! Probably that I had to get out of the way before that fancy car hit me right in my booty...

Pink Saturday

It's Saturday and time for a new pink post for Beverly's Pink Saturday challenge. For all of you who love anything pink, go and check out all the great links she'll put on her blog today!

My pink picture today is of the Bouganvilla at our front gate here in Spain. My grandparents bought the house in 1970 and I have spent all my happy holidays here since I was 2 years old. For me this is Paradise on earth, not only because it is beautiful, but because of all the happy memories from this place.

I remember watching my mom plant this Bounganvilla one of the first summers we spent here. It was just a tiny little plant, but my mom told me that it would grow big in a few years. She had a picture in her mind of how beautiful it would look against that white wall. Well, it certainly does! My mom is no longer here, but this Bounganvilla is and with it the memories of her.

So in honor of my mom who passed away June of 1996:

You were right...This Bounganvilla takes my breath away!

You loved pink and so do I.

This picture is for you!

The little princess with the rose colored glasses

My daughter never ceases to amaze me.

Of course she is wonderful simply because she is my little girl, but there is one quality that I envy. You know that expression: "to see the world through rose colored glasses"?

Well, my little girl sees herself through pink glasses. And in her own eyes she is absolutely a princess. When passing a mirror she catches a glimpse of herself, and she'll stop and admire what she sees. No matter what she is wearing she'll be twirling and looking at herself from every angle with a content smile.

*

This summer we went to a street fair in Spain. Late at night there was a concert with hundreds of people watching a man play his guitar. Without any fear or intimidation my little girl stepped out in front of the crowd and DANCED! She dance and twirled with her eyes fixed on the stars and her hands lifted in the air. I watched with amazement.

But my favorite part was when the guitarist ended his song and the whole crowd started clapping and shouting. My daughter looked at the crowd with pride and smiled graciously as she gave a bow. To her she was the star of the show!

*

She is the center of her own universe and there is no doubt in her mind that she is beautiful.

Was I like her?

Did I use to feel like a princess?

Did I smile happily at my own reflection knowing that I was perfect?

Was I star in my own world?

*

A couple of weeks ago I found this old (and I do mean OLD!) picture and it hit me.

Yes, I used to feel like a princess too....

What happened?

When do little princesses stop feeling beautiful and start feeling inadequate?

Why do little princesses wake up one morning and look in the mirror with disgust?

Why does admiration turn to criticism?

Was it something somebody said?

Was it something somebody did?

Or was growing up the same thing as loosing those pink glasses?

*

I wish every little girl could grow up and know that she is perfect just the way she is. That she is beautiful and gifted and that she is the center of her universe.

*

So to all you princesses out there - let's put those pink glasses back on!

Let's dance with our eyes fixed on the stars.

Let's be proud of our achievements and receive the applause with a gracious bow.

Let's celebrate our beauty.

Let's take a look in the mirror - and smile!

A little fish tale

A while back I was helping my sister-in-law decorating for her son's confirmation. The budget was pretty tight and since he was 14 I didn't want to buy girly flowers. I was thinking hard and long to come up with something fun and unexpected. And I did! I went out and bought a couple of big round glass vases, filled them with green glass and managed to order something called Floralytes. (Lights that you can put in water - I'll tell you about those later...) A couple of days before the big day I bought gold fish and put into the vases. It turned out the be a unique, interesting and very fun decorative piece.

But the story doesn't end there. As with many things in life you make some choices that are rash and seem like an excellent decision at the time. But looking at the gold fish swimming happily around in their vase I suddenly realized one thing. I had bought a living creature just to make a decoration that would make everyone go: "Wow!". I had not even thought about what I was going to do with them after the party was over! I felt ashamed. I'm not really an animal person, but I'm not cruel either. So without hesitation I proclaimed to my son: "And these are yours after the party!" My son, being 10 at the time, rejoiced. Out we went to buy all the things we needed to make these two gold fish part of our little family. I had NO idea what I was in for!

First we had to get the aquarium. They had lots of different models, but since MY fish (which I had chosen only thinking about their decorative value) were going to grow really big, I had to get a big one. Then came the filtration system, the lighting, the decorative plants, the gravel, the little castle (very posh gold fish), the scull (for playing hide-and-seek, very important!), algae remover, glass cleaner, glass scraper, fish food (different kinds for different fish mind you), pellets (for when we were gone) and a whole list of other little things that I didn't even know existed. Of course, with such a BIG aquarium two little baby gold fish were almost lost, so we had to buy some more fish as well. And all the things I had to learn! Keeping gold fish is a science! (My uncle used to have two guppies in a bowl, I have no clue how they survived all those years. They probably didn't. I bet he just bought new ones every month.)

Well, to make a long story short. My little "budget" plan ended costing me about $400. And it turned out to be a whole lot of work. (I'm just glad I didn't get doves!)

My conclusion is: next time I'll just buy some flowers!