Writing A Book Or The Art Of Procrastination

I Just Hope...

2011-11-21T04:14:00.000-08:00

A sweet beige Labrador puppy was kicked out of a car and left in a car park in the middle of the forest.
A trusting mutt was set on fire.
A pitbull that had never hurt anyone was tied to a tree and left there to die.
A Husky was tied to a car and dragged around until its head almost fell off.
A German Shepherd followed his owner, out of love, to the railway track, only to be hit by a train ( the owner leapt to the side at the last moment, poor dog, confused, was killed instantly ).
Another German Shepherd fell a victim to a few psychopaths who put a firework rocket in his mouth...
Five cute kittens were buried alive by a group of kids.
An old cat that lives in the allotments adjacent to my block of flats ,and doesn`t do any harm to anyone, has one eye missing and his tail has been cut off.
Hundreds of elephants are killed for their tusks, their corpses left to rot in the African sun.
Whales fall prey to greedy Japanese who make fortunes selling their meat.
Fins are brutally cut off living, feeling things who are then thrown back into the water and die in agony.
Beautiful parrots are caught and then kept in cages till the ends of their lives.
Sweet, black eyed baby seals are clubbed do death for their soft fur.

That list could go on and on and on...

And we have a cheek to claim that we are superior to animals...
I just hope that somewhere there a doggie heaven exists .
I hope that all the dogs go there when they die.
I sometimes dream that they have infinite meadows where they can play all day long and tall trees in the shades of which they can rest when they get tired.
There are rivers there from which they drink crystal clear water, so they never go thirsty.
They have big bones made of marzipan and chocolate to chew on.
But what`s most important, there are no people there that could hurt them.
If a doggie heaven exists , then a cat heaven must be somewhere there , too.
In the cat heaven there are tall trees that can be climbed and plenty of mice made of cream.
And, since there is a doggie heaven and a cat heaven, maybe, just maybe, there is also a heaven for the wild animals: savannahs and jungles without an end to them , where elephants still have their tusks, where parrots are not made to perform ridiculous tricks just to please kids, where bears don`t have metal rings pierced into their noses.
Just a thought that all those poor creatures who could not defend themselves on earth find peace in the afterlife, puts a smile on my face.

I just hope...

Eastenders! I freakin missed ya!

2011-11-16T02:02:00.000-08:00

There was a time when I hated English soaps ( I do not mean washing bars ).
Primo: I found them too depressing.
Secundo: I had to watch them with subtitles on. Yeah! Funny right?
Then, more than a year into my love affair with UK, I came down with flu. A really bad one, too.
And who kept me company every night at 7.30 ???
Ha, loads of people, and all of them from Albert Square.
Since then a lot has changed in my life, but my love for Eastenders, or call it an addiction if you like, has survived.
I don`t care how brain numbing watching Eastenders is, I enjoy doing it. Full stop.
For almost a year every Monday was a holiday for me and an intellectual death for Hubby.
On Mondays Eastenders Omnibus would come up online , ready for a download.
In June that precedent was suddenly stopped.
``Damn`` I thought. ``How am I going to survive without all that drama: deaths, births, falls from grace, prison sentences, mental illnesses, loose women, mad men, tacky jewellery, cheap outfits, all that cheating, lying and shagging around?``
Well, I did, somehow.
I was clean for five months.
Until a few days ago, when I had read all the magazines that had to be read and done all the other things that count as procrastinating, and I realized that I couldn`t procrastinate anymore. I had simply run out of excuses to not to write my book.
Panic alert! Some excuse had to be found, otherwise I wouldn`t be able to call myself a procrastinatress and this blog would die a natural death.
Luck always on my side, I somehow got involved ( on FB ) in an ongoing argument: Corrie vs Eastenders :

ME:Don`t say `` goodbye``, it sounds ...hmmm...sad, say ``laters``:) Lol! x
Monday at 02:11
OMG! "Laters" is so Coronation Street. Beaucoup too much!

Monday at 02:15
Corrie 4 ever! lol :P
Monday at 02:16
You can be Becky!
Monday at 02:17
ME: Corrie??? Naah! Eastenders rocks!
Monday at 02:17
Blasphemy!
Monday at 02:18
The theme song is even sub par!
Monday at 02:18
That old bitch that worked at the laundrette, she is the only halfway decent character on Eastenders.
Monday at 02:21
ME: Oh come on! You are talking about Dot Branning!!!!!!!!
Monday at 02:21
Dot!!!
Monday at 02:22
I mean, she's always two steps away from death. DIE ALREADY!
Monday at 02:22
Ugh. Another emotional fan.
Monday at 02:24
ME:No, not emotional, just grumpy. Can`t sleep:(
Monday at 02:25
Call on Dot, she'll whip you up a nice brew and follow it up with a nice sad story involving cheap detergent.
Monday at 02:26

The argument unresolved ( let`s face it: I wasn`t a very strong opponent) I had my excuse at last.
It`s sooo good to be back in Woolford again!
Hello Eastenders!
Goodbye writing!

Procrastinating With Procrastination ( as stolen from Natalie )

2011-11-15T10:15:00.000-08:00

The title says it all and it couldn`t have been more self-explanatory.
21 hours ago, I`m being very precise here, one of my English friends said on FB that she could procrastinate with procrastination. Wow, I thought, that`s what I have been doing for nearly a month!
Well, there have been breaks . One for a severe cold that lasted almost two weeks, one for ``I just don`t give a shit anymore!``, one for Frankie`s illness. There was also one for home shopping, one for entertaining friends, one for....ha! commissioned writing ( I still don`t know whether my texts have been accepted, but if they are, I`ll fill You all in ) and spring cleaning ( in November-how bloody pathetic ), not to mention staying up to date with my ``scientific press`` ( read: Elle, Vogue, Vanity Fair ).
But...a couple of nights ago, when I could not sleep at all, I came up with a few ideas (I`m keeping the details to myself for the time being ) and also decided to totally change the concept of my book.
So, it`s back to square one.
I have to start writing from scratch ( not that I`ve put hell of a lot of work into those infamous first three pages I have been stuck on for nearly two months now ) and I can`t wait to do it.
In the meantime I`m procrastinating ....
After all I have the whole book in my head so maybe, just maybe, if I think about it hard enough and often enough it`ll write itself...?

Good Girls , Bad Boys

2011-10-18T03:49:00.000-07:00

So I said ``Till tomorrow``.
That was 5 days ago.
There was no`` tomorrow``.
There was no ``the day after tomorrow``.
There was no Sunday .
There was no Monday , either.
But I`m a master procrastinator and... a lover of vampire movies.
And as the latter I`ve been bugged by a dilemma: why on earth are all those human girls attracted to plain Johns ( plain Jane / plain John - I hope that does make sense )???

Let`s take ``True Blood``.
There is Sookie. A feisty and a bit dumb looking blonde, a bloody fairy, goodness incarnate, falling for Bill.
Bill: plain sod with an equally plain secret, well if there is any secret behind that hopeless facade at all.
Bill is predictable, Bill is righteous, all the elderly ladies in Bon Temps like him.
Bill is the King of Louisiana and as such he dresses like Prince Charles.
Bill always knows what to do and what to say.
Bill is like a medieval knight in a shining armour: sickeningly boring.
But, there is also Eric.
Eric is strong ( after all he has walked this earth for more than a thousand years ). Eric is a hottie. He is handsome, he is sexy, he has amazing eyes that promise even more amazing ..hmm...things. Eric does not give a shit about anything or anyone. He takes what he wants. He loves madly. He hates truly. He is loathed by almost everyone in Sookie`s countryside shithole. Is there anything not to fall for????
Sure not!
Sookie gets a bit wiser. Only for a while. And then, silly bitch, goes for a threesome!!!!

Things do not look any better in ``The Vampire Diaries``.
We have Elena: big eyed , long haired anorexic southern beauty who , after having gone through all possible misfortunes in the world, meets Stefan the vampire.
Stefan is even more boring than Bill.
Stefan has a very boring face.
Stefan always knows what to say, when to come through the window and what not. Stefan is predictable and chivalrous.
And even when his dark past catches up with him he is not very convincing as Stefan the Ripper.
That boring and corny Stefan has a brother, Damon.
Damon is gorgeous. He is handsome, he is sexy, he is unpredictable, he has the most beautiful eyes among the undead, he is funny, he is ruthless, he is sweet ...Yes, Damon the bad boy is sweet in his badness. He is James Dean kind of sweet. A rebel in a way. The only difference is that Damon has a cause. And his cause is Elena, who , with her fawn eyes seems to be as blind as a bat. She could have the second sexiest vampire ( the first one is Eric , of course ) that has ever walked the earth, but no, she chooses Stefan. WHY????????

And the last hopeless case in my book of hopeless cases is Bella. Yes, Bella Swan form ``The Twighlight Saga``.
Bella is a good girl. She is a girl of virtue. She loves her crazy mum and her clumsy dad, but she also loves a vampire: Edward.
Edward Cullen: pale faced, pink lipped, stiff as a board vegetarian vampire.
Always a gentleman, always right: as proper as proper can be. Boring.
Thank you, but NOOOOO!
Bella has a choice. She could go for hot blooded werewolf Jacob.
Jacob is cuute, he is sexy, he has lips and eyes to die for....
But Bella eventually goes for Edward.
At least she has enough guts to become a vamp.

So here we are.
All those good girls falling for good boys.
And I have always thought that opposites attract.
I have always believed that bad boys take you for a ride of a lifetime, not a drive to a family dinner, and back.
Bad boys come into your life and take what they want, but those best ones never leave you..:)
They tame what is there to be tamed and love almost unconditionally.
They can throw a chair or two if , a normally good girl, drives them to extremes, but they are fun to be with.
They are fun to love!

So , remember, never go for a roast chicken, because super hot Thai green curry is so much more fun ( even if , sometimes, it gives you a diarrhoea :))) ) !

Laters ! x

C.O.L.D.: Criminal Offence ( against ) Literary Duty or a Viral Upper Respiratory Tract Infection

2011-10-13T14:29:00.000-07:00

C.O.L.D is what I have committed today ( gossip followed by shopping, followed by more gossip, followed by more shopping and that, in turn, followed by another round of gossip ) but it is also what I have come down with ( sore eyes, throat and muscles , a headache and nausea ).
Self- explanatory , isn`t it?!

Till tomorrow then...

P.S. To Whoever Reads My Blog,
       Could You , please, leave a comment from time to time?
       Any feedback from my blog readers would be priceless:)

       Night, night:)

Time Management and Logistics My Credentials Are Not...

2011-10-12T03:03:00.000-07:00

Here I am, after 11 days of not working on my book and not updating my blog, writing this new post that is sooo going to be one big excuse for not having done what I should have .
But....
R and I had a wedding to attend.
A wedding- not a big deal.
But...
The wedding in question was in a faraway land. Faraway if you have to get in the car and do 1300 km in one go.
There were also certain requirements regarding the dress code, namely the hats for the female camp.
I`m not a hat person, I`m not even a fascinator person, exactly like Poland that is not a hat land , not even a fascinator land. So, finding a head gear that would match the occasion, my outfit and my wallet was a bit of a challenge, and time consuming one, too.
The event also called for a new hair colour and hair cut. A pleasure normally, but stops being one when your hairdresser is based 170 km from where you live, in the country where motorways are, well, scarce , and what you want to have on your head takes three hours to achieve.
There is also the question of autumn being not very travel friendly in terms of choosing the wardrobe. The forecasts hardly ever prove right in October, so poor, indecisive me spent half of the day packing a suitcase . One always needs a plan B, right?
Then comes the dog. We could not take Frankie with us, so he had to be dropped off at the ``nanny`s``( read : my mum`s ). That involved travelling, too.
On top of everything else Frankie fell ill, so visits to the vet were on the agenda.
All working mums will probably laugh at me, but, hey, laugh as much as you want!
The thing is I never do things by the halves, so every activity is kind of long.
I walk the dog three hours a day.
I take from an hour to two in the bathroom ( depending on whether I`m washing my hair or not).
Being a control freak and suffering from OCD I clean my flat every morning.
A day without reading is a day lost, so is a day without an afternoon nap:)
FB also contributes to my very bad time management, consuming at least one fifth of my normal day.
Then there is make up to be applied ( one should always look good , even if one is a stay-at-home want-to-be writer ), dinner to be prepared ( one is making first steps in cooking so meal preparation takes ages ), clothes to be ironed ( one is obsessed with ironing ), arguments to be had ( one likes arguing , over anything really, as one likes having the last word - which normally has to be ``I`m really sorry. You know that I did not mean to be a bitch``), guilt trips that result from the arguments ( one cannot concentrate on anything except from chain smoking and vino drinking ), and other bits and bobs not really worth mentioning ( one doesn`t want to be ridiculed more than it`s absolutely necessary )-all that on top of the preparations for the trip to Belgium where the wedding in question was held.

To sum it all up, as I don`t want to ramble too much ( forgot to mention that one does do a lot of rambling ),the 11 days gone have not been the most productive time in my life. In fact they are a strong evidence that time management and logistics my credentials are not....
But...
R and I got to meet our friends in the most joyous of circumstances. And what is more important than that?
Not many things really.
So, I`m going to be philosophical here: who gives a f*** about time management and logistics???
Definitely not me:)))))

Till tomorrow!

PMS : 7 Stages of Madness

2011-10-01T03:34:00.000-07:00

PMS, the enemy I have to share my life with for a few days every single month.
Following the advice of the masters of warfare, I do know this enemy very well, so I build my own little resistance movement and wave a white flag from my trenches in its face every time I can sense it coming, but it just doesn`t give a damn. It strikes on a regular basis , its spies knowing about every new crack in my defense system and every weakness of my strategic plan.
I try very hard to give it a lethal blow, but I always end up as a hostage to that dreadful , merciless son of a bitch...
The only consolation is that I know every stage of the way, every kind of torture my enemy inflicts upon me:

STAGE 1: ``he`` ( let`s give PMS a gender:)) ) starts by overfeeding me; within 24 hrs my stomach stretches enormously and I end up being permanently hungry, so there are herrings followed by chocolate eclairs, followed by bread with onion and sugar, followed by a kilo of plums, sudden pangs of hunger when walking Frankie and salivating while food shopping ;
STAGE 2: ``he`` then proceeds with making me heavy by stopping all the fluids in my body from circulating properly; so there I am retaining so much water that my PMS weight exceeds the usual one by 3-4kg; but hey, ``he ``does not stop here;
STAGE 3: my body slowly begins to give up and it suffers from all possible aches and pains: I get headaches, my eyballs are sore, my muscles ache,my neck is stiff and I have a sore throat, and, to make things even worse, ``that twat ``won`t let me smoke!!!!
STAGE 4: I like calling it ``a pizza face ``stage
STAGE 5: after playing with my appetite, my weight and my complexion ,and after giving me flu symptoms, ``the wanker`` takes over my brain, making it swell up
STAGE 6 ( the madness kicks in ): I start procrastinating in every single aspect of my life: I can`t be bothered to wash my hair in the morning, I do not see the point in washing the dishes, hoovering becomes a life challenge and choosing what to wear results in a tantrum : ``I have nothing to wear ! AGAIN !``
STAGE 7:``the arsehole`` slowly starts questioning my life choices what , naturally, leads to an enormous identity crisis : ``who is that woman in the mirror?``, ``what the hell am I doing here?``, ``I`m a loser``, ``I don`t control my life anymore`` !!!
STAGE 8: edginess follows : I don`t like sunny days anymore, wind drives me mad, I give Frankie bollocking for pulling on the leash, I want to kill all the drivers , I can`t stand old people anymore, I talk to trees , birds and insects telling them how bloody annoying they are, I bang on the door of the lift, I even kick it, to make it come down and pick me up and...for every ``yes``from somebody else there is a ``no`` from me and the other way round
STAGE 9: I lose the ability to concentrate: I can`t read, I can`t watch TV, I can`t even talk on the phone ; the result: I simply stop answering the phone:(
STAGE 10: physical and mental exhaustion to the point when I want to grab a fork and stick it in my eye or in the eye of my next door neighbour.....
STAGE 11: I start testing the limits of my husband: I yell , I nag, I sulk , all the time being prodded by my PMS to take one step further , to check how much more shit R can take from me: not a fair play:(((
STAGE 12: the last stage is an uncontrollable stream of tears and equally uncontrollable stream of apologies and then......
the moment of liberation comes. Because it always comes, exactly like the enemy: reliable though not always on time:), but usually before I forget who I am and totally succumb to madness.

So, if anybody would like to know how my book is doing, well .....``Sod off``! None of your business! I`m at stage no8. Wait until the liberation comes and then I will let you know!``
And as for the Polish translation...``Do I look like I`m bothered?``

Till better time...

Dear God... // Drogi Boze...

2011-09-28T02:49:00.000-07:00

Dear God,

So I did not win 50mln zl.
I got the message. You probably have a totally different plan for me, sth along the lines : ``work hard , do not procrastinate, do not slag people off, always be on time, stay in touch with people instead of texting them once a year or catching up with them in a hurry on FB, spend less money on fashion magazines, keep your promises,quit smoking, spend less time on the phone and stop dreaming -start acting``.
It`s ok. I`m fine with that. Those two lucky ones that have won 25mln zl each probably need that money more than I do.
I just hope they spend it well and have some fun while doing that...:)
It would be such a waste if they just put the money in their banks, wouldn`t it?!
So I want You to know that I`m not going to bear a grudge. I`ll still talk to You everyday. I like those ``chats`` a lot I must admit.
You never answer but I know that You somehow look after me. You do, don`t You?
Silly me. Of course You do. If You didn`t I wouldn`t be sitting here writing to You, but instead, I would be stuck somewhere in an office or on a shopfloor putting a brave face on while having to do what my idiot-how-did-he/she-got -that-job boss has planned for me for the day.
If You did not listen to what I have to say R would not be in my life. I`d probably have to share it with some half- lobotomized cretin who would not have the slightest idea what a Hadron Collider is or where the rain comes from.
If You were really bored with our conversations You would not give me the gift of seeing things with my heart, would You? Instead, there would be a cold, calculating bitch in my body, right?
So I`m lucky, almost as lucky as those two winners. I know. Thank You for that.
If I could just ask a little favour of You...
Could You, please, make a day last longer , by only a few hours???
You see, there are all those magazines and books waiting to be read , films to be seen, a heap of clothes waiting to be ironed, windows to be cleaned, emails to be typed and finally: MY BOOK TO BE WRITTEN.
I hope this letter hasn`t offended You in any way. I just wanted to make You smile. And I bet You are laughing Your head off while reading this:)

Well, that`s all for now. I`ll talk to You later .

Your moderately humble friend : ME .

Drogi Boze,

No i nie wygralam 50mln zl.
Dotarlo do mnie, ze masz pewnie jakis inny plan wobec mojej osoby, cos w stylu: ``pracuj ciezko, nie odkladaj nic na pozniej,nie obrabiaj ludziom tylkow, badz zawsze na czas, badz w kontakcie z bliskimi ci osobami zamiast smsowania do nich raz na rok albo szybkiego nadrabiania zaleglosci na FB,wydawaj mniej pieniedzy na magazyny z moda, rzuc palenie ,dotrzymuj slowa, skoncz godzinne pogadanki przez telefon i mniej bujaj w oblokach - dzialaj ``.
W porzadku. Rozumiem. Tych dwoje szczesliwcow co wygralo po 25 mln zl prawdopodobnie bardziej potrzebowalo pieniedzy niz ja.
Mam tylko nadzieje, ze dobrze je wydadza i beda sie przy tym dobrze bawic...:)
Strata byloby , gdyby tylko zaniesli te miliony do banku, prawda?
Chce wiec , zebys wiedzial, ze sie nie gniewam . W dalszym ciaglu bede z Toba codziennie ``rozmawiac``. Musze przyznac, ze lubie nasze pogadanki.
Wprawdzie nigdy nie odpowiadasz , ale wiem, ze nade mna czuwasz. Bo czuwasz, prawda?
Glupia koza ze mnie , oczywiscie, ze czuwasz.Gdyby bylo inaczej nie siedzialabym tu teraz piszac do Ciebie, a zamiast tego tkwilabym gdzies w biurze, albo w sklepie, probujac zachowac jakos twarz ,wypelniajac obowiazki mojego idoty-jak -dostal- w ogole-ta -prace szefa albo szefowej.
Gdybys nie sluchal tego co mam do powiedzenia w moim zyciu nie byloby R i musialabym je dzielic z jakims kretynem po polowicznej lobotomii, ktory nie wiedzialby co to jest Hadron Collider albo z skad bierze sie deszcz.
Gdyby nudzily Cie nasze rozmowy , nie dalbys mi daru patrzenia na swiat sercem, no nie?
Zamiast tego w moim ciele bylaby jakas zimna , wyrachowana suka. Mam racje?
Tak wiec jestem szczesciara, prawie taka sama jak ci co wczoraj wygrali w lotka. Wiem. Dziekuje Ci za to.
Gdybym tylko mogla prosic Cie o malenka przysluge...
Czy moglbys, prosze, przedluzyc dzien, tylko o kilka godzin?
Widzisz, jest tyle mazynow i ksiazek to przeczytania, filmow do obejrzenia,cala gora ciuchow czekajacych na wyprasowanie, okna blagajace o umycie,maile do napisania i wreszcie: MOJA KSIAZKA DO SKONCZENIA.
Mam nadzieje, ze ten list Cie w zaden sposob nie obrazil.Ja tylko chcialam , zebys sie usmiechnal , i zaloze sie, ze czytajac to, smiejesz sie do rozpuku:)

No to chyba tyle na teraz. Pogadamy pozniej.

Twoja umiarkowanie skromna przyjaciolka: JA.

Monday Evening : To Belgium And Back :)

2011-09-27T01:20:00.000-07:00

The story that took R&me to the Belgian Embassy in Warsaw last night began in the last century when R`s grandfather, a very famous Belgian motorcycle champion and a speed record holder during the 20′s and 30′s, was introduced to a very famous Belgian travel journalist Robert Sexe, whose pictures were a direct inspiration for Herge’s first few stories of Tintin. Mr. Sexe was traveling around the world on motorcycles and needed a technical adviser. Him and R`s grandfather soon became friends and Mr.Milhoux senior helped him prepare his motorcycle for his round the world trips. Both men were on a regular basis on the news. On one occasion R`s grandfather was invited to the offices of “Le Vingtieme Siecle” for an exclusive interview, he was introduced to several people working there, one of them being Georges Remi, they had a little chat during which Herge asked Mr. Milhoux if he wasn’t too bothered that he had named the dog Milou after him, R`s grandfather found it quite amusing so, of course, had no objections. Remember that at that time Tintin wasn’t as big as it is now.
Milou is male, small, brave and quite clever. R`s grandfather was (obviously) male, small, brave (record breaker) and, being an engineer, he was quite clever (also he regularly helped Mr Sexe out…).
According to R, his grandfather was sometimes called the “White Devil”…because he always wore white overalls for his record breaking events…another link to an impossibly white Snowy...:)
So, when R went to the Belgian Embassy in Warsaw to renew his passport, his surname did not pass unnoticed . A few days later an invitation arrived:
`` On the occasion of the premiere of Steven Spielberg`s ``The Adventures Of Tintin`` and the full Polish edition of The Tintin comic book, the Ambassador of Belgium in Poland, Raoul Delcorde, together with the President of Egmont Poland and the President Of The United International Pictures, have the honour to invite Mr. and Mrs. Milhoux, to a reception that will take place on Monday , Sept 26th, at the Belgian Embassy in Warsaw.``

What followed was a frantic dress hunt and a terrible stage fright. It`s not that I was expected to say anything, but still, I had never been to a reception at an embassy before.
Came yesterday morning and there I was stressing myself out, showering, shaving, smothering my legs and arms with a shimmering lotion, all that topped with an hour and a half long visit at the hairdresser`s, and an hour long make-up session.
The clock struck 6.30, a cab arrived to pick us up and off we went: slightly nervous, slightly thirsty and terribly hungry.
On the arrival we noticed that we were a bit overdressed. My dress was quite demure, but smart. My Ferragamo heels finished off the look beauifully. R wore a black suit, a black tie, his hair with a slight quiff to honour Tintin.
Most people wore jeans or some weird outfits that were a combination of vintage and pure junk.
Sod it, we thought. At least we know how to dress for the place and the occasion.
After being greeted by the Ambassador`s wife at the door to the reception room , we grabbed two glasses of red and waited.
R being R introduced himself to the Ambassador and then to the represtentative of The Waloon Government in Poland. They struck a few jokes, shot some polite shit and everybody went their own way.
Then came the speeches : thanks to the Ambassador for organizing the event, thanks to Mr. Spielberg and Mr. Jackson for making the movie, thanks to Tintin himself . All speeches were made in English and my eyes and my ears were on the interpreter. Poor guy was sweating like a pig and instead of translating, he was giving his own interpretation of what was being said, thus giving his profession a totally new dimension. At some point he even started translating from Polish to Polish.
Formalities out of the way, we stayed where we were, thinking whether to leave or wait.
I was hoping for some food, R was hoping for some clips from the movie.
The only person I recognized was one of the most respected Polish film critics Janusz Wroblewski, who is also the Artistic Director of the Gdynia Film Festival. Watching him walk aimlessly I decided to chat him up.
He was as lost as we were and turned out to be a genuinely nice guy.
Suddenly the door to the other room opened and everybody emerged with an empty plate, like vultures waiting for hyenas to stop chewing on an antelope corpse. Of course we joined the pack:))
The table was big, the food served in a miniature form, but very tasty. We sampled the savoury, we sampled the sweet, we had two more drinks and off we went grabbing a goody bag on our way out.
An hour of ....fun ??? Maybe. Sth new ...definitely! All in all a very pleasant hour, though it was ever so nice to slip into my pyjamas and snooze on the sofa.

That`s all as far as Monday is concerned . NO WRITING! But , since Monday has always been blacklisted in my world , I did not really expect to do any work harder than reading a magazine:)

P.S. No time for the Polish translation, sorry!

Laters!

Sunday And The Post-Wedding Reflections On The Contents Of My Bag // Niedziela i poweselne refleksje na temat zawartosci mojej torby

2011-09-26T02:40:00.000-07:00

Sunday was supposed to be a busy day, but as minutes and hours went by it turned into a totally me-day, to the point when I couldn`t even make myself reply to text messages or update my blog, not to mention working on my book...I did not even go to see my grandma. `` Selfish bitch`` some might say. Tell me about it, I `ve had to live with her for 39 years:)))))))
So, there was a long pampering session in the bathroom, eating, shopping for a coat , buying cakes, snoozing in the sun, reading R.R. Martin`s ``A Clash Of Kings``, more eating, napping , eating again , buying magazines and snoozing in the car while being driven by R back home to Warsaw. To sum it up: a very long and a very lazy day. Perrrfect Sunday ( in my books, of course ) !
As for the wedding that R and me attended on Saturday...Well, I should really write about the bride and groom, the venue that dates back to the 13th century, loads of food in which, being the driver, I indulged as if there was no tomorrow ( it was too chilly outside to smoke ) and lovely people that we got to know.
Instead I`ll sum it up in a few bullet points:

I was getting changed by the roadside making some old man on a bicycle almost crash into a tree ( I consider that a good deed as I probably was the last naked woman he got to see before he dies )
we were late and missed the wedding ( pic 1)
my dress passed the exam with flying colours ( pic 2 )
plum was the colour of choice for 50% of the female guests
the mayor of the bride`s village had repaired all the local roads in anticipation of the contingent of 30 Belgians
two little girls stole the show ( pic 3, 4, 5 and 6 )
I found out that the jobs in the European Comission are for life
I did not dance even once
we left unnoticed when the wedding cake was being cut
I drove an unconscious man ( read: my husband who had a bit too much vodka ) back home in the middle of the night

But , since, I like looking at things through other things ( if that makes sense ...:) , I will allow myself to compare the contents of the little black, satin clutch that I had at the party and my cotton , back- up holdall bag .

Satin clutch: mobile phone, Max Factor Facefinity Compact Foundation, Bourjouis Blush in Rose, Maybelline Eyeshadow in Blanc Neige, Revlon Lipgloss in Coral Reef, Rimmel Stay Matte Dual Action Concealer in Nude, Rimmel Eyeliner in Jet Black, a comb and two cotton buds.

Cotton back- up bag: my diary ( you never know when you might need to write sth down ), the invitation to the wedding, my Jimmy Choo purse in torqouise, made form python skin ( a present from R ), September issue of Vanity Fair ( what if I got bored and would have to spend the rest of the evening in the car...? ), a book - ``A Clash Of Kings`` by R. R. Martin ( in case I ended up being bored with Vanity Fair ), plastic bags for Frankie`s poo ( for emergencies), Chanel No5 Eau Premiere, two sticky tape rolls ( to take fluffs of R`s suit), my cosmetic bag , a camera, wet wipes ( amazing in every eventuality ), sunglasses, a packet of cigarettes, two lighters, hand cream, shimmering body lotion, a packet of tissues, phone charger ( you never know where you end up, right? ), antihistamine tablets, vitamins, the keys to our flat, 3D Silicone Smoothing Base, a hair brush , nail varnish ( just in case ), Tic- Tacs and a bottle of Coke.

Laters!

Niedziela miala byc produktywnym dniem, ale w miare uplywu minut i godzin zamienila sie w dzien poswiecony tylko mnie , do tego stopnia, ze nie moglam sie nawet zmusic do odpisania na sms-y i uaktualnienia bloga, nie wspominajac juz o pisaniu mojej ksiazki...Nawet nie poszlam odwiedzic babci. ``Egoistyczna suka``ktos moglby powiedziec. Ha ! Wiem cos o tym. Zyje z nia od 39 lat:))))
Byla wiec dluga sesja pindrzenia sie w lazience, jedzenie, kupowanie plaszcza, kupowanie ciastek, drzemka na sloncu, czytanie ``Starcia krolow``R.R. Martin`a, znowu jedzenie, i kolejna drzemka, i jeszcze wiecej jedzenia,kupowanie magazynow i finalowa drzemka w trakcie powrotnej jazdy do domu.Podsumowujac: bardzo dlugi i leniwy dzien. Perrrefkcyjna niedziela ( przynajmniej w moim mniemaniu ) !
Jesli chodzi o slub , na ktory pojechalismy z R w sobote...Hmmm, tak naprawde powinnam napisac o pannie mlodej i panu mlodym, o palacu, ktorego historia zaczela sie w XIII wieku, o tonach jedzenia, ktore, jako , ze bylam kierowca , pochlanialam w nieprzyzwoitych ilosciach ( na dworze bylo troche za chlodno , zeby ciagle palic ) i bardzo milych ludziach, ktorych mielismy okazje poznac.
Zamiast tego, podsumuje wszystko w kilku punktach:

przebieralam sie przy drodze narazajac jakiegos staruszka na rowerze na stluczke z drzewem ( uwazam to jednak za dobry uczynek, jako ze bylam prawdopodobnie ostatnia naga kobieta jaka udalo mu sie zobaczyc zanim pozegna sie z tym swiatem )
spoznilismy sie i nie bylismy na slubie ( fot 1)
moja sukienka zdala egzamin spiewajaco ( fot 2 )
kolorem przewodnim ( na okolo 50% gosci plci zenskiej ) byl sliwkowy fiolet
wojt gminy, z ktorej pochodzi panna mloda, w oczekiwaniu na 30 gosci z Belgii, zreperowal lokalne drogi
dwie male dziewczynki byly nieformalnymi gwiazdami przyjecia ( fot 3,4,5 i 6 )
dowiedzialam sie, ze praca w Komisji Europejskiej jest na cale zycie
nawet raz nie zakrecilam obcasem
wyszlismy z wesela ``po angielsku`` kiedy byl krojony tort weselny
w srodku nocy wiozlam do domu nieprzytomnego mezczyzne ( czytaj: mojego meza, ktory wypil troche za duzo V )

Ale, poniewaz ja bardzo lubie przygladac sie wydarzeniom przez prymat roznych przedmiotow ( jesli to w ogole ma sens....) , tak wiec pozwalam sobie na porownianie zawartosci mojej malej, czarnej , satynowej kopertowki z zawartoscia mojego zapasowego plociennego torbiska.

Satynowa kopertowka: telefon komorkowy, Max Factor Facefinity Compact Foundation, roz Bourjouis w kolorze rozanym, Bialy, perlowy cien Maybelline, blyszczyk Revlon w kolorze rafy koralowej, Rimmel Stay Matte Dual Action Concealer w kolorze naturalnego bezu, czarna kredka Rimmel , grzebien i dwa patyczki do czyszczenia uszu .

Moja zapasowa plocienna torba: moj notes ( nigdy nie wiadomo kiedy bede musiala cos zapisac ), zaproszenie na slub i wesele, moja portmonetka Jimmy Choo z turkusowej skory pytona ( prezent od R ), wrzesniwe wydanie Vanity Fair ( a co gdybym sie znudzila i musiala spedzic rezste wieczoru w samochodzie...? ), ksiazka ``Starcie krolow`` R. R. Martin`a ( gdybym sie znudzila czytaniem Vanity Fair ),plastikowe woreczki na kupki Franka ( na wypadek naglych wypadkow:)), Chanel No5 Eau Premiere, dwie rolki z tasma ( do zdejmowania paprochow z garnituru R ), kosmetyczka , aparat fotograficzny, mokre chusteczki ( doskonale na kazda ewentualnosc), okulary przeciwsloneczne, paczka papierosow, dwie zapalniczki, krem do rak, rozswietlajacy balsam do ciala z drobinkami zlota, chusteczki higieniczne , ladowarka do telefonu (nigdy nie wiadomu gdzie sie wyladuje, tak? ), tabletki antyhiastaminowe, witaminy , silikonowa baza wygladzajaca 3D, klucze od mieszkania, szczotka do wlosow, lakier do paznokci ( na wszelki wypadek ), mietusy Tic -Tac, i butelka Coca-Coli.

No to nareczka!

``I Really Have No Time`` Post

2011-09-24T03:48:00.000-07:00

I`m seriously hungover, in fact I`m still a bit drunk, what, considering R and I have a wedding to attend to in two hours , 138 km from where we are now, is not good....
On a brighter note, my hair is straight- from- the- hairdresser`s fresh and bouncy, the dress ready on the hanger,
make up will be done in 15 mins . Nothing to panic about , right?
Right my arse!!!!
I better be going or R will kill me.
Till tomorrow then.

P.S. Sorry, but no time for the Polish version today:(

A Busy Morning, A Very Peaceful Afternoon And A Drunken Evening // Intensywny poranek, spokojne popoludnie i pijacki wieczor

2011-09-23T14:48:00.001-07:00

A busy morning, a peaceful afternoon spent in a bathtub, and a totally drunken evening in Lublin. Procrastination on full blast!!!!! Yee haw!

Bardzo intensywny ranek, ciche popoludnie spedzone w wannie i totalnie pijacki wieczor w Lublinie. Prokrastynacja na full!!!! Yee haw!

P.S. I don`t know how I am going to get to my upstairs bedroom. The stairs have never seemed soooo steep !
Laters!!!! ( If I`m still alive that is ...)

P.S. Nie mam pojecia jak sie dostane do sypialni na pietrze, schody nigdy nie byly takie strome.
Nareczka!!!!! ( Jesli jeszcze bede zywa....)

The First Three Pages , A £5m Rollover And The Worst Shoe-Repairer In The World // Pierwsze trzy strony,kumulacja: 25 mln zl i najgorszy szewc na swiecie

2011-09-22T14:36:00.001-07:00

Hooray! My second appointment with myself turned out to be quite fruitful : I managed to write the first three pages and, while typing away, I discovered a fantastic thing, I was being taken for a ride by my own creation.
It`s true what those who write books for a living say: you give life to your characters and after a while they simply stop giving shit about you and start living in their own way, doing what they want, saying what they like and making their own choices. In a way it`s a great feeling as everything just starts flowing, but, on the other hand , you start getting a bit frustrated while watching all your ideas, the whole plan that had existed in your head for such a long time and made you toss and turn almost every night, simply disappear. It`s as if your own child was saying: ``Oi! I fart in your general direction!``:) Not that I know much about children, but , having a hyperactive imagination, I can see that happening when my own flesh and blood reaches puberty.
While talking about my ability to dream, today has been a dreaming feast.
Having my own numbers I religiously buy lottery tickets. If you don`t play, you don`t win, right?
And today is a rollover day. £ 5m up for grabs for the lucky one.
I have never really won anything, but that does not stop me from dreaming about winning.
And the first thing I`d do, if I won ,would be buying a few plane tickets to, it doesn`t really matter where, and travelling light: just me and my handbag.
Packing and unpacking has been the story of my life, so for once I would love to be able to travel with just a few absolutely necessary items, buy whatever I fancy on the spot, then pay sb to pack and ship my shopping back home and move to another location , where the whole scenario would repeat itself. I would also start going to the hairdresser every second day to avoid those morning nightmares of ``Oh my God! It cannot be me in the mirror!``. Everything else: a new house, a car and so on would come third.
So here I am, still drooling over the idea of being the lucky winner, and even if I`m not, I`ve spent so much time visualising the happy moment that it almost feels as if I won and spent it all:)) Cheers to all the dreamers out there!
Today has also been a witness to my seasonal wardrobe swap.
With chilly mornings and evenings I can`t keep refusing to acknowledge the fact that winter is lurking from somewhere round the corner. So, in an attempt to be well prepared , I took two pairs of my favourite boots for re-heeling.
I chose a shoe-repairer next to where I live. One should support local businesses.
I was in a hurry, with Frankie on the leash desperately trying to put his head in some drunkard`s stinky rucksack, so I simply went into the shop, explained what had to be done and paid in advance,only to realize,when I was about to leave, that the shoe guy was completely drunk and completely deaf. I asked him fifteen times when my boots would be ready and the only thing I found out was that the shop next door sells lacquer which I might want to use in case I`m not happy with the colour of my new soles. Trying to get the boots and my money back was totally hopeless. The guy was as deaf as a post.
The woman from the shop next door only rolled her eyes up and informed me, with a smirk, that the guy was not good and the police had to intervene in the past. Great! F****** great! The guy gave me a tiny piece of paper with ``Tuesday`` written on it, so I guess I`ll either have to arm myself with a hammer or unleash my mum. He should be praying for me not to do the latter:)))
Goodnight!

Hurra! Moje drugie spotkanie ze soba okazalo sie calkiem owocne: zdolalam napisac pierwsze trzy strony, i kiedy tak sobie pisalam odkrylam cos fantastycznego: moja wlasna kreacja porwala mnie za soba.
To prawda co mowia doswiadczeni pisarze: dajesz swoim postaciom zycie i po chwili one cie po prostu olewaja ,zaczynajac zyc na swoj wlasny sposob, robic to co chca, mowic co im sie podoba i dokonywac wlasnych wyborow.
W pewnym sensie jest to wspaniale uczucie , bo wszystko nagle zaczyna po prostu plynac, ale z drugiej strony pojawia sie frustracja, bo moje pomysly, caly plan , ktory mialam w glowie przez tyle czasu, i ktory nie pozwalal mi w nocy zasnac , po prostu nagle zniknal.
To troche tak jakby moje wlasne dziecko powiedzialo nagle , cytujac Monthy Python`a, ``Ej! Pierdze w twoim ogolnym kierunku!`` Nie , zebym wiedziala zbyt wiele na temat dzieci, ale moja nadpobudliwa wyobraznia pozwala mi zobaczyc co sie dzieje, kiedy te zaczynaja dojrzewac.
A propos moich predyspozycji do bujania w oblokach, to dzisiejszy dzien byl pod tym wzgledem prawdziwa uczta.
Majac swoje wlasne numery, z religijna wrecz systematycznoscia, gram w Lotto. Jak nie grasz, nie wygrywasz, no nie?
Dzisiaj jest kumulacja. 25mln zl do zagarniecia przez jakiegos szczesciarza.
Nigdy nic w zyciu nie wygralam , ale nie powstrzymuje mnie to od marzenia o tym, ze ja tym wlasnie szczesciarzem jestem.
Pierwsza rzecz, ktora bym zrobila, gdybym wygrala, bylby zakup kilku biletow lotniczych , niewazne dokad,i podrozowanie bez bagazu: tylko ja i moja torebka.
Poniewaz pakowanie i rozpakowywanie towarzyszy mi przez cale zycie, chociaz raz chcialabym zwiedzic kilka miejsc zabierajac ze soba tylko pare niezbednych przedmiotow, potem zakupic to co mi sie podoba na miejscu, zaplacic komus , zeby to dla mnie spakowal i wyslal do domu, i bez stresu przemiescic sie do kolejnego miejsca, gdzie scenariusz by sie powtorzyl. Zaczelabym rowniez chodzic co drugi dzien do fryzjera, zeby uniknac tych koszmarnych porankow typu ``O moj Boze! Ta w lustrze to nie moge byc ja!``
Wszystko inne: nowy dom, samochod etc byloby dopiero na trzecim miejscu.
Tak wiec siedze tu sobie i slinie sie na mysl o wygranej , a nawet jesli nie bede to ja, to spedzilam tyle czasu probujac sobie TEN MOMENT wyobrazic, ze czuje sie jakbym juz wygrala i wszystko wydala:)) Pije wiec zdrowie wszystkich niepoprawnych marzycieli!
Dzisiejszy dzien byl rowniez swiadkiem mojej zmiany garderoby z letniej na zimowa.
Chlodne poranki i wieczory nie pozwalaja mi na dluzsze zaprzeczanie faktowi, ze zima lypie gdzies zza rogu. Tak wiec, probujac sie jakos zorganizowac ,postanowilam zaniesc dwie pary moich ulubionych kozakow do szewca, zeby podbil obcasy.
Wybralam kolesia z sasiedniej ulicy. No w koncu powinno sie popierac business lokalny.
Spieszylam sie, a do tego uwiazany na smyczy Franek desperacko probowal wsadzic glowe do smierdzacego plecaka jakiegos pijaczka, weszlam wiec do zakladu, wyjasnilam o co mi chodzi , zplacilam z gory, i wychodzac juz, zorientowalam sie, ze szewc byl kompletnie pijany i kompletnie gluchy. Pytalam go pietnascie razy kiedy moge odebrac buty, ale powiedzial tylko, ze w sklepie obok moge dostac lakier do pomalowania nowych podeszew jesli nie bede zadowolona z jego uslugi. Proba zabrania butow i odzyskania pieniedzy byla bezcelowa, bo szewc jest gluchy jak pien.
Kobieta ze sklepu obok tylko przewrocila oczami i poinformowala mnie z przekasem , ze szewc nie jest dobrym fachowcem i kilka razy musiala nawet interwieniowac policja. Wspaniale! K**** wspaniale!
Pijany szewc dal mi swistek papieru z zapiskiem ``wtorek``, zastanawiam sie wiec czy mam pojsc uzbrojona w mlotek czy spuscic ze smyczy mja mame.
Szewc niech sie lepiej modli, zebym wybrala pierwsza opcje :)))
Dobranoc!

``Make An Appointment With Yourself And Make Sure You Turn Up`` // ``Umow sie ze soba na spotkanie i dopilnuj tego, zebys sie na nim pojawila``

2011-09-21T14:43:00.001-07:00

Drawing on the experience of others I decided that making an appointment with oneself is not a bad idea, especially if I one has a tendency to procrastinate.
My ``me, myself and the laptop`` meeting was scheduled for 10am. I sat down at the table, a gallon of ice-tea and a pack of cancer sticks at the ready, and.....nothing happened.
I decided that one more totally unproductive morning wouldn`t make any difference. After all I have the contents of my book in my head, so what the hell!
Conscience more or less clear , I watched another episode of ``Recipe For Life`` ( my favourite Polish series), logged on FB , started chatting with a friend I hadn`t seen for ,like, 10 years or more, and ... burned the beetroots I had been cooking for a salad, thus ruining one of my new shiny pots.
Noon came and went by, and at about 3 o`clock I had a proper panic attack.
I needed some fresh air and Frankie came in handy.
A very long, lazy walk helped calm my nerves down. I was ready to start writing, as ready as I had never been before.
It did not last long though. When going through my ``scientific magazines`` I found out that ``Absolutely Fabulous`` is coming back later this year and, check this out, it`s going to be Patsy and Eddy in Lanvin, Balenciaga and Stella McCartney!
After having read news like that I couldn`t possibly go back to my table and start writing, could I? I mean could ANYONE???
Besides R was back home ready to serve the new episodes of ``Vampire Diaries`` and ``Downton Abbey`` accompanied by truffle risotto and rose.
Could not refuse... :))))

Korzystajac z doswiadczenia innych zdecydowalam , ze umowienie sie ze soba na spotkanie nie jest wcale zlym pomyslem, szczegolnie jesli sie ma tendencje do odkladania wszystkiego na pozniej.
Moje spotkanie ze soba i latopem zostalo zarezerwowane na 10 rano. Usiadlam przy stole, galon mrozonej herbaty i papierosy w zasiegu reki i...nic sie nie wydarzylo.
Stwierdzilam, ze kolejny , totalnie bezroduktywny poranek nic nie zmieni.
W koncu zawartosc mojej ksiazki mam w glowie, wiec co tam!
Sumienie mniej wiecej uspokojone, obejrzalam kolejny odcinek ``Przepisu na zycie`` , odwiedzilam FB, poplotkowalam ze znajomym, z ktorym sie nie widzialam przez jakies 10 lat i spalilam buraki, ktore gotowalam na salatke, rujnujac w ten sposob nowy , wspanaiale blyszczacy garnek.
Poludnie przyszlo sobie i poszlo, i , gdzies kolo 15-tej dostalam ataku paniki.
Potrzebowalam swiezego powietrza i tu przydal sie Frankie.
Bardzo dlugi i leniwy spacer pozwolil uspokoic nerwy i znowu bylam gotowa, zeby zasiasc do pisania, nawiasem mowiac tak gotowa jeszcze chyba nigdy nie bylam.
Nie trwalo to jednak dlugo. Przegladajac moja ``prase naukowa`` natknelam sie na newsa, ze ``Absolutnie Fantastyczne`` wracaja jeszcze przed koncem tego roku i, HA!, to bedzie Patsy i Eddy w nowej oprawie: Lanvin, Balenciaga i Stella McCartney!
Po przeczytaniu czegos takiego nie moglam tak po prostu wrocic do mojego stolu i zaczac pisac, prawda? Ja nie wiem , czy w obliczu takich wiesci, KTOKOLWIEK moglby to zrobic?!
A poza tym R byl w domu i serwowal nowe odcinki ``Dzienikow wampirow`` i ``Downton Abbey`` przy akompaniamencie truflowego risotto i rozowego wina.
Nie moglam odmowic... :)))

How I Got Here... // Jak sie tu znalazlam...

2011-09-20T17:02:00.000-07:00

I`ve always loved writing: school essays, letters, emails, text messages. Especially the text messages. At some point in my life I even mastered the art of texting ( much to the annoyance of others).
The idea of writing a book came from a friend, one rainy day in April ,2007.
Since then it has constantly been on my mind: poking me, itching, drilling a hole in my head...
And , at the beginning of this year, I was given a chance!
``Wow``- I thought. ``At last``!
So I started writing....only to delete everything after a couple of days :(
Looking for inspiration, I started writing a blog under the name La Lhoux , which , among other stuff, featured the first few sub-chapters of my novel.
On the first of September I decided to speed things up ( read: motivate myself ) by announcing to all my blog readers that the book on the blog was no more. Instead I made a promise that I would come up with sth substantial before the end of the year.

The first week of Sept went by..., then the second..., then the third....
21 days of perfect procrastination.

This blog is meant to be the record of my writing progress, my frustrations , distractions : life as it is happening to me.
So, here is to all my friends and, hopefully, followers: read , process and help me out in moments of doubt:)

Zawsze lubilam pisac: szkolne wypracowania, listy, maile i sms-y. Szczegolnie sms-y. W pewnym momencie swego zycia opanowalam sztuke sms-owania do perfekcji ( ku frustracji innych).
Pomysl napisania ksiazki nadszedl od dobrej znajomej, pewnego deszczowego dnia w kwietniu, 2007.
Od tego czasu pomysl zagoscil na dobre w mojej glowie: poszturchujac mnie, swedzac i wiercac dziure w mojej glowie.
Na poczatku tego roku dostalam wreszcie szanse!
``Wow``! - pomyslalam. ``Nareszcie``!
Zaczelam wiec pisac, tylko po to, zeby po dwoch dniach wszystko skasowac.
Szukajac inspiracji zaczelam pisac blog : La Lhoux, ktory, wsrod mnostwa innych zapiskow, zawieral kilka podrozdzialow mojej ksiazki.
Pierwszego wrzesnia, zdecydowalam, ze przyspiesze pisanie ( czytaj: zmotywowuje sama siebie ), oglaszajac na swoim blogu, ze mojej ksiazki juz tam nie bedzie. Zamiast kolejnego wpisu, obiecalam publicznie, ze bede sie miala czym pochwalic przed koncem tego roku.

Minal pierwszy tydzien wrzesnia..., potem drugi..., i w koncu trzeci...
21 dni ksiazkowej prokrastynacji.

Ten blog ma byc zapisem procesu powstawania mojej ksiazki, moich frustracji i wszystkiego, co mnie odciaga od pisania: zycia na biezaco.
A zatem wszyscy drodzy przyjaciele i znajomi , i , mam nadzieje, czytelnicy mojego nowego bloga: czytajcie, przetwarzajcie i , prosze, pomagajcie w chwilach zwatpienia:)