Poetry : Old lovers

Old lovers

It's been a few years now
I arrive at your door in what
I hope is a radiant light


You tell me to get lost
with a smile in your eyes
And as I am already lost
I hold your gaze
Until it burns my heart


Like before
We know the end from the start


We try to converse
Like old friends would
You remember bits of me
I remember all of you


I ask you how your feeling
And the same look covers your eyes
You say you felt me walk away
As soon as I arrived.


Later, when your eyes turned to new mysteries
And you freed yourself from my grip
I had no fight left in me
I had no fight left in me


I saw you first, staring, hazy
through a room of strangers
Your eyes cut a path to mine
And we were introduced.


Where are you now
What happened to that place
The era of all of us
Lost in another new day

Extract from chapter 3 : Sam and Zoe / Sun Sea and Sam

Chapter 3

Sam walks into the reception of JKL Advisors a few minutes late and heads straight for the elevator without so much a nod to the receptionist. It is unlike him to be late in, and being stressed out about Zoe and the

pressure she is putting on him at the moment is making him edgy and absent minded. On arrival at his desk, he picks up his mail that Jackie his PA has left hovering over his keyboard. Flitting through, he sees nothing of interest. This morning there is a staff meeting at 11 so there are a couple of hours to catch up on the file he was working on until late last night. He sits at his large expensive mahogany desk, and instead of getting stuck in, finds himself a few minutes later staring out of the window. The view from his office is stunning. He can see the London Eye, London Bridge, the sleepy thames, the M15 building. Instead of it's usual overcast gloomy self today London is all sunshine, and the windows in the buildings along the river are shimmering in it's reflection. He can't quite put his finger on the state of mind he is in, but it's slightly negative and he wished he could snap out of it. He thinks about Zoe, imagines what she would be doing right now. Probably grabbing a latte and a croissant at Parsons Green Station he assumes, before heading to her pilates session. Zoe often jokes that being free in the daytime is literally the only perk to her poxy job, and Sam couldn't help but agree with her. It didn't bother him that she just a waitress when they met 7 years ago, life was just about the weekend back then, and a lot of hers and his friends were also in crappy jobs. But slowly Sam moved up in the financial world and along the years his responsibility doubled as well as his pay packet. Zoe's best friend Mona moved up in the world of fashion, becoming an editor at a glossy magazine in Paris. Her other friend Caroline opened her own florist, and eventually owned three shops across London. Their mutual friend Ed had done pretty well for himself in property management…. and well Zoe, she was still wiping peoples dirty plates into the bin, still being stuck with weekend night shifts and having to deal with screaming kids parties and yummy mummies, still coming home at 3 in the morning with only a couple of pounds tips and at the end of the month a salary that frankly made Sam wince. Sam resolved to talk to her later tonight about her career, her goals. That out of his mind, he started on his clients file and worked without pause until the staff meeting.

Mother, Son and Suitcase : Berlin 2011

I want to say that my sons favorite part of our trip to Berlin last year were the tree - lined streets of Mitte, or the wonderful riverside views of Pretzeurburg, but the highlight in fact for my little one was.... watching the video of the hotel at night from his lovely bed. Well, he is 3 :-)

''The hotel room!'' he would shout out, pointing frantically at the TV... ''The reception!'' and so forth.

The second day we were there I took the little smurf for a haircut. This was on the agenda that i had planned from home, his first haircut ever to be in Berlin just seemed like a nice story for our short trip. I found a barber by just walking around our neighborhood, and 7 euros and an hour later my blue eyed floppy haired angel was now a 'boy'. looking very serious and grown up. At one point the barber turned on the clippers and my son, scared, started waving his hands around shouting ''Danke, Danke!'' in panic, meaning ''No!'' Danke was the only word I had taught him before we left. Maybe learning the word 'no' is very important in a language in hind-sight. :-)

To be cont.....

Travel: Destination anywhere

There is an old saying that if you want things to happen you should put them in writing. Over the years I have thought of the places I would to travel to, the cities I have yet to discover and journeys I have yet to make.

Before my son was born in 2008 traveling for me was a much more light-hearted affair. My desire to visit a certain destination was easily satiated by buying a cheap ticket, flinging a few bits of clothing in a suitcase or even just a rucksack and booking a cheap hotel online. Since my little boy arrived however, the trips started to involve visiting the granparents in London frequently (which we love) The costs doubled in terms of flights, baggage, food. And so naturally just jetting off and doing it often took a back seat.

I am a big fan of Easyjet. In fact when I book a trip within Europe I literally don't even research the prices of other airlines. Recently Easyjet have added quite a few exotic locations that leave from my closest airport, Geneva, Switzerland. I find it amazing that I can now get to Fez, Morrocco or Sharm-El-Sheikh, Egypt and still have change left over from 100 sfr (70 Euros) for a cafe at the airport.

Recently I took a look at all the places I could go to from Geneva with Easyjet. I wrote them down in my notepad and crossed out a few that didn't interest me for some reason or another.

Here are the destinations that made the cut:

Amsterdam, Barcelona, Berlin, Munich, Brussels, Faro, Ibiza, Madrid, Stockholm, Rome

Paris.

It is always usually winter months that I crave freedom and adventure. It is lovely to look on the net or in books at breathtaking beaches, lovely old towns, to dream of spanish winter-sun.

It is fun to check flight prices and make a theoretical agenda. This time i decided to make an itinerary of a dream trip across europe. Not just look at flights but also find the best hotels or hostels in the area, and research the top ten things to do there and choose the ones that would interest my son and I the most. My little boy is 3 years old, so there are some options that are some-what limited (Going to the theatre, bars and clubs at night, shared dorm in a hostel) but I couldn't imagine leaving him behind with family. he makes each trip so special and is actually a wonderful and easy travel partner.

I am a Libran, so I tend to balance each option to anything in my mind and weigh up all the opinions, suggestions before ultimately arriving at a decision. The 'Dream Trip' project takes me a long time, even just for the initial rough outlines. For example, should I aim for 1 year? 6 months? 8 months? As you can imagine, financially there is a big difference in budget for each of these durations. Then comes another choice: to try and find work during the trip or some other way to fund it? Would I risk hostels with my son or should I stick to economy hotels?

Unless I win the lottery I am not quite ready to leave for the airport yet, to say the least. :-)

But one can dream......

Sun, Sea and Sam (1)

Sam walked in on me applying my lipstick in the bathroom mirror and didn't even slightly notice the sexual undertones of this gesture. He was late for work, but there used to be a time

where me rolling on stocking or dabbing at my lips would have him kissing my neck and forgetting his rush. I turned to say him. ''Is today the day you ask then?'' He flinched. He hated that

I hadn't let it drop and that I follow him about our house keeping the subject fresh in his mind. Nagging, yes I think that's what men mostly call it. I think the fact that it is nagging doesn't mean I

don't have to push the issue. See, I want it, and Sam well, I am just going to have make him want it too. Maybe i could even manage to make him think it was his idea, if I really worked hard.

I understood what Sam feared about this, I truly did. Asking his boss for a raise would be nerve-racking, asking his boss for some time off would cause him great worry, but asking for

a sabbatical of a year, to ''travel about'' well that was just plain frightening. But I didn't want anything else and this plan was all consuming. At least I wasn't asking him to marry me.

I thought rationally, now that's scary even to me. Sam slopes off into the kitchen in search of evidence of hot toast and a cup of coffee like I would sometimes surprise him with, and

seeing nothing but last nights washing up, flicks on the kettle with a sigh.

Later, after hearing the door slam and after a strong cup of coffee myself, I sat down at the long kitchen table and delved into my favorite passion, planning the trip. There were so many

addictive avenues to peruse, from calculating a budget, researching work opportunities in far-flung countries, even just checking the map of the world and working out where neither of

us have ever been. The other night whilst enjoying a nice bottle of red wine, Sam and I made lists of the countries we had each been to. I was shocked and drunkenly grumpy once it was

worked out he had travelled to more places than me. I always thought of it as me the free-spirited traveller and of Sam as well, the dependable stable one. But in his twenties he hadn't

been so involved in his career and had in fact spent nearly 7 years in far flung places. Although we knew each others stories quite well, his travels were a kind of taboo topic because he

made them all with his ex wife and when relaying tales of his journeys he could never manage to miss out the fact of the part that she was with him for every experience. Or maybe it was

me that never failed to forget, either way that was sometimes a touchy subject. However, our round the world once in a life time trip together would be such a daring adventure, anything in the

past wouldn't even compare. I reflected heavily. I needed a selling point. This daring adventure had already an enormous theoretical sum attached to it, and not only did we not have next

months rent let alone the funds for the sabbatical, Sam hasn't even committed to the idea yet.

-----

Travel: To Paris, with love

The travel bug

This morning I logged onto Easyjet this morning and with a few swift clicks change my mood from grumpy to upbeat. Booking a trip to Paris was the last thing on my to-do list but suddenly I knew it was just what the doctor ordered. Seeing a confirmation number pop up to a fun, hip destination in the near future seriously repaired my spirit. I had to contemplate it for a few days now as my financial situation is bordering dire. I mentally justified all the ways I could make this trip possible. I would write about the journey. I would take a hostel instead of a hotel. I would cook in the shared kitchens. I would live on 5 euros a day. I would cut out lattes and magazines until the flight date. And so on and so forth. There are people in my life who think I travel too much. Can you travel too much? I love traveling. I even love airports and flying. I even love waiting for delayed planes or having to waste time while waiting for a 3pm hotel check-in. This particular journey will be to Paris, to wander around the streets of Montmartre, to grab coffee in the Marais, to window shop in the Latin Quarter.

Traveling seems to wake me up. Is travel essential to the soul? To mine it seems to be. As soon as the train pulls away from my town and I stow my suitcase under the chair, a little smile

comes to my face and stays there the entire journey. I wonder about the people around me. I dwell on how I will spend my first few hours at my destination. I read, I prepare, I dream. I have

been to Paris before, in fact I lived there once, years ago, for a month. Aside from that I have been there several times. Which is why I made a special agenda. With thanks to the internet and guide books, I am going to go to places I have not yet discovered in Paris, from an all night american diner in the 12th arrondissement, to a cafe where you can sew your own garment whilst sipping tea, which has just opened last year and is the latest trendy thing to do in the Marais on a weekend.

Leaving familiarity behind and heading off for an adventure is under-rated. For me, each and every time traveling helps me see the bigger picture of life and takes me out of my day to day thoughts and struggles. It has a way of waking me up and bringing forward into my consciousness the potential of my future and goals. It gives me the freedom to explore who I am, to remember who I want to be. Sometimes I get stuck at home, thinking of small things that don't really matter and dealing with things on auto-pilot and without enthusiasm. When I go somewhere else, I forget the ''small stuff'' and I open my eyes and really look around at the world, the people and the beauty of life. I am not leaving for Paris until the weekend after next, but

in my mind I am already schlepping my suitcase up the stairs of Montmartre, looking enthusiastically for my hostel and taking in the atmosphere of the city of lights.

Valentines day : Cue Cupid..

Call me an idiot, but even though I completely hate valentines day and all it's yuckiness, I still acknowledge it, albeit in a negative sense. Last Feb 14 I actually took a two day trip to side step being in my town alone. Whilst restaurants filled with couples gazing into each others eyes, the woman with a solitary rose perching on her bag, the man looking uncomfortable and out of place and checking the prices of the menu discreetly, I was in the comfort of a bed and breakfast 60 miles away, happy in the knowledge that I wouldn't hear the letterbox 'not' clacking with the sound of cards, I wouldn't hear the phone 'not' ringing, I wouldn't have to be reminded that I am without a partner.

Not that I am not happy, any other day I feel great about my status and revel in my freedom, and have a positive view of my love life and future. But the 14, oh it's just so depressing. Why is there no 'singles celebrate' day?? Where are my

chocolates! And god forbid you are in the early stages of dating someone as was my case last year, not yet exclusive and in complete angst about how to deal with this tricky celebration. Originally i thought of scheduling a date with him on the 13th, thus making it impossible to see each other the following night. Then I wondered what he was thinking - was he breaking out in a sweat at the tackiness and stress of it too? Or as a man had he no idea that it was V day just around the corner? Hence me taking off for a short break. Problem solved and only 300 pounds spent that I didn't have.

It is all so false and contrived. However, just to completely contradict myself, I have had some wonderful valentines nights when I was coupled up. Yes the chocs and teddy bears and lollipops and jewelry are thrilling when you are 'in lurve'. They put a stupid grin on your face and make you walk around in a stupor writing thank you texts whilst the butterflies in your tummy do somersaults. Because however it is bashed for being commercial and void of class, which it is most definitely, it is also something every woman secretly does hate and wish would go away when she is single.

What is a girl to do the night of this dreaded date the 14th? The secret lies in watching romantic comedies with your sister, or singing Cyndi lauders 'Girls just want to have fun' while clinking champagneglasses with your best girl pals at the local pub, or just catching up on reading or sleep with a hot chocolate in your hands and your cat purring away on your lap. Don't worry, we wont tell that even though you dismiss valentine's day as rubbish and cruel to anyone at the office whowould listen, you still check your mailbox twice. :-)

V day sucks.

Dating: Hey Chica, look at you!

I have made a resolution to look my best everyday. Sure, us girls make a huge effort when going out at night, hours of plucking and grooming and tweaking (if only men knew!)

We glam ourselves up to the max, enjoying the process immensely, and feel our absolute best once we hit the town. But lately i have noticed a difference as to how I feel running errands

in the morning or grabbing a coffee at the weekend, or shopping at the local shopping centre. If I made an effort that morning (not such an easy task when also dealing with a 3 year old :-))

then I feel super great, however if I just threw on the closest pair of comfy trousers and barely ran a flannel over my face, then I feel not so great. It changes a lot, I have noticed, from my

posture to my confidence. And when your single you never know what opportunity is just around the corner…

As it has been said many times, you can meet men anywhere. At the library, in the queue at tescos, whilst renting a video. And it has also been said to definitely not limit your searching to

at the bar on a friday night. Au contraire, sometimes meeting men on a night out isn't the best approach at all. Let's face it, being out on the pull and drunkenly gushing on to some stranger

about your love of big brother does not a love story make. So make sure you are not in your pajama top covered up by your wooly cardigan the next time you pop out to buy some milk. In the

game of lurve and dating, you want to optimize your chances and be ready to smile coyly and bat eyelashes and have a laugh with a stranger looking your most fabulous, at any time.

This is not to say that this applies only to hankering after cute studs. Taking time to feel fantastic and pampering yourself is also great for your soul and makes you look a billion dollars for

yourself. Let's all say it together…. ''Because your worth it''

K.B

Dating : The Bad boy

The Bad Boy

I am in the midst of extracting myself from that oh so bad boy dilema and boy, is it hard. This is the kind of guy that every woman

falls for at some point in her life... and like a big chocolate gateau it is forbidden, no good for you and tempting beyond belief.

The bad boy knows how to treat you. At first. Not that he treats you well, but he is an expert in what will make you feel desired, then

giddy, then totally hooked. In my case I have Bad Boy syndrome for a year now and the memories are bitter and few; when he becomes

attracted to someone else, when his phone beeps all night long with racy thoughts from other 'friends' these things remain in your head

and crowd out the sensual times, the way he looked at you at first, when he took you to that concert.. not to mention the drunken hazy

memories outside the local bar, on a side street in the shadows kissing frantically and thinking nothing is as good is this.

Your friends are beyond bored about hearing about him. Worse, they no longer have any faith that you are strong enough to let him go.

They do not don the rose coloured glasses and actually they find him, well, a bit of an idiot really. But they prop you up with

chardonnay and listen to the latest rampant bad behaviour and console in all the right places because they love you. Later, going on to

the club they try not to kill you when you dash away having being summoned by mr. casanova to go and keep him company at his

house tonight. Yes, the most you see of this man is after midnight. What is it about these bad boys?? Try as you might spending time

with a nice lad who wants to take you to the cinema and hear more about your life, you just can't seem to focus because bad boy is

still in your heart, and he is deliberately keeping himself there for the long haul. Find it a suprise that he sends you a text message on

a saturday night 'just because?' he is scared you are on a date. When you feel like moving on the most, here he comes, riding into

the scene in an upmost seductive manner and bam, your back to square one.

What's a girl to do? Hmm. Anyway, if you'll excuse me, I think I just heard my phone........

K.B

Dating : Getting 'out there' again

The last thing on my mind in the months that followed my last relationship break up, was men. First there came the exhilaration of being free of something that wasn't working, then the relish of being

single, i.e free to do whatever you wish, from eating ice - cream in bed to leaving the dishes to watching romantic comedies, repeatedly. Yes in the rush of me moving on, I

wasn't thinking how big the bed seemed, or how quiet the house, I was free! Then gradually it came up on me. There was no one to laugh at that funny thing that happened at

work. No one to take me out whether to drown my sorrows or to celebrate some great new thang i'd done or had. No one to go for a walk with .. i could go

on but you get the picture. Yes, there are your girlfriends, and believe me I don't say that flippantly. Girlfriends are gold, essential to not only helping you in your singleness but just in

general in your life let's face it where would we be without them. But as the months rolled on and the seasons changed, I started to open my eyes and was astonished to see, well lots of

promising looking dashing young men where-ever I turned. They had always been there, but now they were everywhere; the cute musician looking guy at the bar, the fit tanned

smiling gent at the train station, it is as if they started appearing for the first time, like blossom.

Then came an obstacle; I had to actually, you know, talk to them! Yes admiring them is all good and well, but if they are (and they often are) not necessarily going to approach, then ladies you

have a brave it with your best smile and attempt at least a 'hello' (not to scare you, but sometimes again, and again.. kiss a lot of frogs and all that). One of my closest friend is amazing at this. Her technique is jaw dropping awesome. It is not even a technique, she just believes in being open to new friends wherever she goes, she has a way of turning strangers into friends with utmost ease, to saying yes to life and love with everything she's got. And yes you guessed it, men love her for it. So, a few weeks ago, armed with a cocktail for nerves and my most ravishing outfit, I approached a man at our local

jazz bar and started a conversation. He was very friendly, we found something in common, he made me laugh and bought me my next drink. Empowered, after a while I retreated back

to my girlfriends table and tried to resist asking for high fives. He took my number, I thought about him non-stop, he never called, such is life. ('such is life were not the words I used when

talking about it) Which got me to thinking, maybe the guys are right, it's a numbers game. So this next weekend I will take it up a notch and try to chat with whoever looks open and interesting.

I do have faith. No, I am not mixing up faith and desperation. Yet.

In the meantime, i'll be here dreaming of myself in the arms of my perfect man, like Marie in the famous when Harry met Sally scene: 'Tell me i'll never have to be out there again…'

K.B