Cigarette break

Saturday morning. Have been awake since 8 this morning! Deadline is Monday! Obviously did not go out last night, and am not going out tonight or tomorrow! So much for TGFTW (Thank God For The Weekend!)

Blah!

Have been working on Project 1 following a series of unpredictable setbacks all morning and have decided to take a cigarette break (finally!) Since there is way too much caffeine in my system, it is impossible for me to revert from multi-tasking and do one thing at a time i.e. sit and relax for five minutes. Therefore decided that best way to use time while smoking is to post on my blog - something which I haven't managed to do in a while!

I wanted to thank those of you who have emailed / called with words of support and encouragement! Thanks L, J (aka JackieChan), E, Joseph, etc.

I should write back shortly, possibly tomorrow or Monday depending on the exigencies of this insatiably demanding Project 1. Fortunately next weekend L, E and myself are spending a glorious girl's nite in Gozo, where we plan to do nothing but get pampered and have fun! So at least that's something nice to look forward to!

Have a great weekend!

Must get back to work! Work. work. work.

Naaaaaaah!

Bloody hell!

Bloody Monday!

Project 1 has taken up most of my time. Actually it has practically taken over my life in manner of weird slimey outer-space parasite! In addition, people who are supposed to help have (just for the sake of shits and giggles, apparently!) become insurmountable obstacles. Which is why my posts have been so scarce. Bloody typical! Imma x’taghmel? Am getting a little bit annoyed at the way in which life is getting in the bloody way of MY plans to take over the universe!

For some unknown reason (let's not even try to figure this one out!) this reminds me of a John Lennon quote which was on a billboard in the film Kuffs, one of my favourites during my Christian Slater era, which was obviously before he earned a reputation for being a stripper-loving gambling-drinker). God, that was complicated! Anyway the quote was:

Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.

Hmmm… am taking a moment to search for spiritual enlightenment.

Have returned to senses (tee heeee!) from philosophical break…

Minutes spent pondering ‘life’ quote: 17

Minutes spent pondering point of self’s life: 23

Iota of spiritual enlightenment found: 0

All together now: Naaaaaah!

Am feeling totally... Totally… There are no words. No words. Nothing!

Am in one of those moods where I just know that it is useless to even think about trying not to moan. Perhaps should go to a health farm for a week or a month or something… like Ben Affleck (although obviously NOT because I am a Hollywood A-list actor with ‘issues’).

Hmmm perhaps will go to a health farm, find God and accidentally bump into some Greek-godlike billionaire actor who’ll cart me off to some quiet idyllic island, where…. (obviously is no need to go on. Have never written smut and do not need to walk down that road exactly right now! Am already down in the dumps… better not take my writing into the sewer, or at this point might really run off to a non-extradition country!)

I mean, surely it’s alright to fantasise about such things! It’s only momentary psychological escapism . V healthy actually! At 26??? Is this healthy at 26? Don’t know, really – think is better not to know than to find out and be carted off to the funny farm (as opposed to v exclusive, chic health farm. Hmm… image of health farm now getting alarmingly more elaborate!)

Need a distraction from all this nonsensical complication. Ok. Let me check my inbox. Perhaps have received email from said godlike actor…

Total bummer! No email from godlike actor. (Surprise, surprise! Tsk!) Desperate attempt to reconnect to reality has miserably failed (again!)

Have just re-read above post and am laughing. I managed to make myself laugh! And as a consequence am feeling better. Perhaps due to the endorphin thingies which kick into your system when you laugh as a natural anti-depressant! Or perhaps because even when I lose my patience, thankfully I still don’t lose my sense of humour! Or perhaps because this blog is really a thin disguise for narrative therapy!

Am going to return to tackle bloody Project 1 with renewed vigour and determination and am also probably going to steam roll over people-cum-insurmountable-obstacles! Have a great week! (I will keep you posted about mine!)

Weatherwise

The word 'weatherwise' reminds me of Frank (Sinatra) singing Fly With Me, where he sings:

Weatherwise it’s such a lovely day
You just say the words
And we’ll beat the birds
Down to Aacapulco bay
It’s perfect, for a flying honeymoon - they say
Come fly with me
We’ll fly we’ll fly away

... I'm going to make an effort to stop typing there. Yes - I have been typing the words to the swing tune from memory. I guess it's just one of those songs

Michael Buble who is reviving swing in mainstream pop culture also does a pretty good rendition of the song. Finally perhaps swing is back! I don't quite know why (as in the reason escapes me, but then again it might also be a case of all reason in generally escaping me..) but I always had a penchant for the 30s, and 40s. Perhaps it is the clothes. Or the excitement of novelty, which my generation might very well have lost for good. We have seen everything. Done everything. and then some. But nothing is new. As they say in the U.S. of A. 'been there, done that, and bought the T-shirt.'

There are some things (quite a few really!) which I will admittedly never understand. Like, when all likelihood is that it will turn out to be a sensibly nice winter day, and therefore I wear my new tweed skirt with black tights. Then badabingbadaboom it starts pissing rain, hailing and blowing up gusts of wind that threaten to turn me into Mary Poppins (Ms Practically Perfect in Every Way) if I open my umbrella outdoors. Boqq! Somethings are just beyond my grasp.

Now I am a winter lover! Always have been, always will be. Unashamedly I despise the splintering summer sun and long for the windy winter weather. BUT (and there is always a ‘but’, other than the one we sit on, of course, which incidentally is spelt with a double ‘t’ at the end, ‘thus butt’ – but I digress…)

Where was I? Yes… But Mr Weather Man could at least kindly make up his mind about what it’s going to be. It is very difficult to colour and texture co-ordinate you look in tune with the cold weather, only to find out that contrary to all blithering expectations (and possibly – although not sure about this, but anyway- NASA satellite imaging system thingies) it’s going to be colder than cold! And trust me, it is no joke wearing skirts in winter, ‘gorgeous A-line tweed skirt, with cross hatch detail and a frayed hem for that little touch of bohemia’ or not! Tights or not! But the skirt is fantastic...

Which reminds… this sales season was not so hot for me (not just weatherwise I mean!) Apart from a ‘few’ (ho... hum..) key fashion items, this season hasn’t offered much. I know that I am an exigent shopper. And alas, I operate under a form of budget (word to be used and understood loosely...) Flexible as it may be, but a budget nonetheless.

Now, can someone please explain to me what on earth shop owners and managers (managers for the love of style!) are doing setting up with the spring fashion when its so c-c-c-cold that my hands turn blue at the mere sight of a three-quarter sleeved shirt? Someone? Anyone?

I mean it’s too cold to want to try on lighter spring clothes. It’s almost unnaturally cold for a Maltese person – after all this winter has been the coldest in 19 or 14 years (depending which of the local newspapers you read!) Shoppers cannot possibly be expected to buy spring clothes while winter sales rage on! Can they? I mean at this rate these guys are going to be having their spring stock sale in under two months!

Have just re-read the post..... Hmmm.... this is v troublesome.... Can someone PLEASE explain to me how on earth I got from weatherwise, to Frank Sinatra to the sales and the weather? Arrghh! Head is spinning in attempt to backtrack through this logic here. Think I better go get some rest!

Mad sightings and Haiku

This weekend was a goodish one (v. conservative estimate). I got down to working on one of my projects, but as usual I overshot and am behind according to my overly ambitious plans!

On Saturday evening (which was part of Carnival weekend, let's not forget!) I went to The Alley in Paceville, where I saw six guys dressed as sperms – i.e. they were wearing long white socks on their heads, tight white t-shirts, and matching ski pants (eek!) and were buffered from the cold by pillows strapped to their torsos - front and rear. This presumably, to give them that tadpole shape.

Otherwise their outfits made no sense. Or have I misinterpreted this? Perhaps they were meant to be ghosts with weight issues? If this is the case, then a Freudian perspective of my interpretation of these weird costumes would be v. concerning. Fortunately I am not a Freudian. Hopefully, neither are you!

And, just in case you were wondering, I really did see them! As in I was NOT drunk. And I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a dream / figment of my imagination / psychotic episode, or I’d be in serious need of therapy if my subconscious came up with that all on its own! But anyway the bouncers didn’t let them in.

Please note: For fear of making some unintended puns or being misinterpreted I will end my commentary regarding the issue right there. I am just sorry that I didn’t manage to snap a pic of these guys with my mobile phone!

On to more sane, less worrying thoughts… I sometimes wonder whether we bloggers ever meet by chance, without knowing it or meaning to. Perhaps a fellow blogger, whose blog I regularly visit is at the same bar as myself, dining at the same restaurant, enjoying cappuccino at the same café…. Which makes you wonder about serendipity Hmmm…

Anyway, this weekend I decided to try something new. And by that I don’t mean going to the Marsaxlokk market to see the folks there set up at 6 am! No, I tried my hand at Haiku, so here hos my first haiku:

i alone at sea -
the ghost of your reflection
still skimming the deep

and my second...

the soft old lady
sits still, waiting in the park
to fly like a bird

Have a great week!

No broken vases...

Just a quick note to tell you (just in case you were wondering) that no - nobody's broken any vases on my head (yet... BUT there's still time!) and that I'm STILL here. As in: No, I haven't made my way to a non-extradition country, Alaska or outerspace. he he!

Had a nice coffee with L yesterday after work at Cesar's, chatted a little, about men, and work, and life. And of course made plans for the weekend! yipee! TGIF!

And in totally unrelated news...

Earlier this week I was just checking my horoscope for tomorrow on ivillage.com This is something I do occasionally, just in case me and all the other people of my sign i.e. Scorpio (aka Beware) are destined to hit the lottery jackpot or receive a Ferrari or something of the sort. I'm not really into astrology, but hey there's no harm in checking! I mean - if i'm going to be saving the world tomorrow i should know, so i can keep my makeup bag handy, together with my black stilettos and sleek clutch bag, for when they interview me on Larry King. Or Xarabank. Or not.

Anyway, this is what my horoscope read:

Enough with the intrigue. It's time for openness -- and maybe a little shopping. Combine the two. Let someone know what you're up to, and then buy what you need.

Ok. So, NOW can you guess what I'm going to do?

Nah! Come on!

Ok... I'll tell you, but only because you asked so nicely! I'm going to log off the blog for today. Am clearly going to spend all night drawing up my wish list... Let's see where do I start...

Hang on there a second!

I know it's like a trick question... like the ones in Aesop's fables and the Grimms' fairytales which we were told when we were young. You rub the lamp and make three wishes and then... the sphynx / genie / whatever tricks you into wasting your wishes. Or even worse turns your wishes against you. Moral: be careful what you wish for, which reminds me of two utterly gripping short stories (slightly dark but still v good): The Bottle Imp and The Monkey's Paw. Moral: beware what you wish for... it just might come true!

Talking about reading, this weekend I hope to catch up with Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls!

The blogging movement

Today I’m in more of a philosophical, meditative mood than usual. Which is something at any rate. Perhaps it’s because I’m currently reading Hemingway’s For Whom the Bell Tolls. His seamless flow almost rambles subconsciously like a river going somewhere, somewhere but where? It just does something to me. I know it does.

I am having somewhat of a difficult day. More stressful really. But I can handle it (hopefully with out actually flying off the proverbial handle myself!) Deadline pushed forward here. Reschedule this and do that. And juggle-all-these­-fine-priceless one-of-a-kind- crystal-vases-without-breaking-anything.

Have not broken any crystal vases…yet. However, I sense the distinct possibility that someone might want to break one on my head pretty soon.

I was thinking (yes. Thinking. Enough of the jokes, now. I have a point to make. Teee! Heee!)

Alright, well if you’re going to be like that I won’t tell you anything. Anything.At.All. (Daqshekk. Nodding head haughtily.)

Well, I was thinking… there are all these blogs out there in the wilderness of cyberspace. Written by real people with real lives. Sitting behind their computers. Tapping away at their keyboards. All united by their blogger identities in an electronic symphony of bits, bites, downloads and emails.

It seems that blogging is being taken up quite well in Malta! I was recently emailing a guy I met via my blog about this and I thought to myself that there is this whole sub-culture of bloggers who put their lives online and read each other’s virtual words.

Then we comment. And receive emails – possibly from people who we don’t know in real life. People whose existence was previously completely unknown to us.

And yet we are all part of the same sphere in blogger terms. I mean there you are just posting your ramblings, rants, trials and tribulations online. Sending your words out like little exploration teams scouting out cyberworld… alone out into the universe. Then some come back to you as emails and posts.

And you think: This is just bloody marvellous! (Said in perfect British accent, intonation and all!)

Well, I think that I’ll be musing some more about the full anthropological and sociological aspects of ‘the blogging movement’ another time, as I have to meet a friend of mine for a coffee. Well, you know, we're just going to talk about guys. obviously.

What's your take about the blogging movement?

Told you there'd be changes!

This blog was formerly hosted at http://nina78.clarence.com

Please not that my new email is girlaboutlife@yahoo.com (like that I have lots more space to save your comments!)

More changes coming soon.

Keep on the lookout!

N
aka Nina78

Yipeeee! Got a mention!

Dear Highly Esteemed Readers of this blog,

It is with great pleasure that I am blogging to inform you that Nina’s Sphere has been featured in Robert’s very interesting and varied blog Wired Temples You can view his full entry about my blog here

Also I would like to thank Robert for the feature as well as his support and feedback!

In addition, am working on enhancing this blog, so get ready for a couple of surprises in the very short term.

Best regards

N

Catching my breath

Now that things have calmed down a little, I have the time to catch my breath and take stock of…

Of… Of having made it through last week’s madness alive?

Of not giving into the alluring temptation of yelling my head off?

Of not having flown off the handle?

Of something or other.


Well, all this commotion started on a Tuesday. Which is already a very bad thing in itself, as I believe that anything that starts should always start on a Monday. It is clearly most befitting since Monday is the first day of the week.

And don’t give me any rubbish about Sunday being the first day of the week. I don’t work on Sundays.

Sundays were made for you to get a rest before starting another frantic week of work!

And with that, your Honour the defense rests its case! (Said in dramatic, triumphant tone. Obviously)

(PS For those of you wondering – no thankfully I am NOT a lawyer – or any kind of legal professional. I just like legal dramas – vide John Grisham’s novels – sooo much better than the film adaptations!)

Plus, it sounds so much better to say ‘it started on a Monday’ than ‘it started on a Tuesaday’. But anyway…

As I was saying, prior to flying off at that arbitrary and irrelevant tangent, (but hey, it’s my blog and I’ll do as I please!) I was telling you all about how it all began.

It started on a Tuesday.

Man, I HATE the sound of that sentence. Let’s see what we can do about that… (Note the use of the royal we there! He he he! More like the royal wee!)

It was a Tuesday when it all started.

Sounds even worse.

Last Tuesday…

Phew! This creative writing process is just killing me! KILLING ME! How long have I been at this?

GAAAH!

Just glanced at the clock ticking silently in the bottom right-hand corner of my computer!!!

Must go get ready and meet my friend in Sliema in 20 minutes for emergency meeting re the guy she likes. This evening I have to tell her that, well that, he’s just a shy guy.

WAIT!

Just wait one minute! Is he really shy? Or is he playing a wily game of cat and mouse?

I mean how are we supposed to know with these men today?

Oh God! I can’t make up my mind about this one! In addition to cutting corners and fellow motorists off the Regional Road (again!) I am going to have to solve this too!

Re the thing that started last Tuesday – well, erm, think it’s better if I tell you next time I blog. Well let’s be positive and generate a positive karma flow, at least I’m blogging more often!

Must dash now. Byeeeee!

N

Something 'different'

Since I have received a grand total of five emails (from people who I don't know in real life as opposed to the web and its virtual reality!) telling me that I should post more often on this blog of mine I have decided to do just that - post! And there I was thinking that the only people who checked out my blog were a few close friends of mine! Well THANKS! Thanks to all of you for the encouragement and feedback!

As I write this it is exactly 22.31 hrs and after a full day's of work (as in yes... i have a day job! How on earth would I possibly keep up with the shopping otherwise?) and I am starting to feel tired. Which is not a good sign! Not for a night owl at any rate...

Hmmm perhaps should go make some coffee....

Am back. with dark, black, hot coffee, energy levels rising as I type.
I was just working on one of my three projects this year (nope... not going to reveal anything more - after all a good writer knows how to keep readers in suspense! he he!) when I decided to take a break and drop you all a line. Then an even more uncanny notion hit my head. The thud, was of course followed by an empty echoing sound... (Ho Hmm! No, you're not supposed to laugh! Just kidding - oh yes you are!)

You have so far seen one side of me. And like a coin, I have two sides. Here is something, let's just say 'different'. Oh come one! Of course you can handle it! This is as yet untitled. Like a little lost sandy labrador puppy, searching for its name and a new home. Here goes:

My fingers grazed the painting you left in my bedroom. The thick dry oil, hiding a few air bubbles under its surface, felt as rugged as your stubble. You knew it irritated me when we kissed, but I loved your salty taste — somewhere familiar between mint and strawberries marinating in the sea, with a dash of coffee and cigarette smoke. I put my fingers to my nose and your smell - that
mixture of heat, paint, solvent, musk and something else which I could never identify, came back to me. I forcibly drew my hand away and my eyes fell upon your parting gift; a large, inexplicable canvas stretched across a frame. The puzzling mixture of colors, pastoral purple, blood red, grassy green and sunny yellow, stared back at me. Textures of thin light strokes of one color, coated
by thick heavy coats of another in contrast, one covering the other — yet never completely, felt like me. The yellow base is still visible, almost translucent, despite the deeper depressed colors' efforts to hide its hope from the world. I saw you paint that picture again in my mind, whistling a tune that was your own, occasionally tapping your foot top a beat which only you knew — one which I
picked up without knowing or understanding. The sun crept in through closed shutters, reflecting on the sweat beads on your skin. This room which you once occupied is now empty. The cold, sharp wind breathes life into the curtains. Billowing, they graze my legs. The windows are open now, and I won't shut them. I can't - not for you. Not because of you.

© 2005

I have promised my five e-mailers (and myself) that I will post more often. And since a promise is always a promise, i'll be posting - so keep in touch!

N