Happy Valentine's Day.

In tradition of Valentine's Day, here's my favorite e-cards. They're kind of romantic. Sort of. Somewhere. Under their offensive, inappropriate or kind-of-pathetic exterior.

Personal Update Part I.

So, I live together with Lemon Man now. 
As with most big life changes, it's weird and completely normal at the same time. It's very new, but it comes natural and we seem to be finding our way in living together. For one thing, our schedules are completely incompatible but it works. I go to bed when I'm tired, he comes in after a few hours and we sleep together. In the morning I wake up early, get up, do yoga, shower, write or read, and after a while Lemon Man will come downstairs and we'll have breakfast together. So while we may not keep the same hours, we do get some hours alone and I consider that a good thing. I like being alone, especially in the morning.

Other than that, we spend a lot more time together and that's actually really nice. We spent time apart too, but it's nice to come home to him.

Also, apparently when I'm asleep, I pet his head like I'm a demented kitten; I just paw and hope I hit his head. I still grind my teeth like a maniac, which after listening to this every night for two weeks, Lemon Man lost his shit over one night and he started yelling at me I should cut it the fuck out. I didn't notice - I was asleep.

Evolyfe's February Issue.

The 8th of the month is a good day. The 9th of every month is also a good day, because I'm all freshed up on my Evolyfe articles. Of course I wrote an article for my favorite half-naked editor-in-chief, James, which you can read here (click!): about yoga and why I love it so much!

My friend Sabine from some-like-it-raw is also featured this issue, with an article on Raw Foods and how it unlocked her potential. I found it a wonderful read, probably one of the best, if not the best article this month. Click here to read it.

The other articles I particularly like were: "What it was vs What I made it mean " and INSPIRED. The last one is a long but very satisfying read.

Also, this may be my very favorite thing of the 8th of the month, the cute mini-biography James Wong cooked up for me.

Currently unknown self help guru. I love it. 

It's here:

Personal, regular updates here will also restart as soon as I am back on-line with an at-home Internet connection, but go check out my new website. See you soon! ♥

My home: fifties household.

Lemon Man and I are accidentally creating a very fifties household. For me, it just started out as a coping strategy against feeling so useless around the house "I may not know a hammer from MC hammer, but dammit, I can cook." So, he fixes things around the house...I fix dinner.

And so I did, and it's what I kept doing. The kitchen became my little kingdom and habitat - I love it in there. Like, really love it. There is such gorgeous natural light in there from as early as nine in the morning, and being the morning person that I am this draws me in. It smells like coffee and cinnamon in there, and I love our stove: it's super efficient. Also, Lemon Man is going to make me an extra counter for my juicer, blender (and hopefully a dehydrator soon ♥).

I never hated cooking, but I never loved it as much as I do now. Affected by compliments, white wine and under the absolutely spectacular influence of 'Miss Dahl's Delights' I've spent quite some magical hours in my kitchen -- which I suspect won't be my last.

There is a certain creative outlet in cooking that I always overlooked. Before, when I read recipes, I felt a little out of the loop -- why were these people so lyrical, poetic even, about ingredients and how you put them together? But now I understand a little bit better. Some people really love to make food as much as I love to write. They're on that level, and even though I'm not, I really start to appreciate that now and I really enjoy it..

So, sometimes true to recipe, sometimes part recipe, part personal and other times freestyling completely, I make food. French onion soup. Mushroom lasagna. Chicken pea burgers. Potato-pumpkin soup. Cinnamon-burnt apples with lime-caramel for dessert. And that's not even including the kick ass salads, scrambled eggs, fresh lattes and mint teas I've made.

It may be a little fifties but you've got to admit: Lemon Man could have done worse.

A new home.

As I so 'calmly' mentioned before (click), being in limbo really isn't my thing. Therefore, living between my parents' house, my boyfriend's house and our new house made me feel very all over the place. Figures, because both me, my stuff and my sense of orientation of said self and stuff was all over the place.

But last weekend we spent our first night in our place, and I had a home again. Since then, I have slept in our own bed, showered in my own bathroom and marveled at the atmosphere my house breathes. Our dining room takes the cake in terms of presence, though: chunky dark wooden table, lighter dining room chairs with soft creamy cushions and a beautiful rusty chandelier with vines have made it my favorite place in the house. Especially with lit candles and glasses of wine it is an amazing sight and pleasant place to be in. I read there over breakfast, I prepare for work while Lemon Man is being a Sexy Handyman somewhere around the house, and we eat dinner together at that table every night.

Over this weekend, it became a real house. With a couch, so my living room no longer looks like one of these terrible building television shows). With actual curtains, an herb rack in the kitchen and a cabinet for some of my clothes in the bedroom. We're not finished but the finishing touches are ongoing.

I'm no longer all over the place though. I'm home, in my new home.

A healthy top priority:

Having yourself as a top priority is a good thing. The art of being able to do that without being selfish is what makes it a tricky thing. Tricky, not impossible.

Neurotic Nerd Alert.

Oh my God, you guys. If I had a cyber equivalent of running towards you with a demented expression on my face, tackling you and crushing your ribs in an overly tight bear hug, I would. But I don't have that. But, to make up for my absence, I do have...

That. And let's be honest, very few things can compete with...whatever it is that is happening to Beyonce right here. So we're cool right? I missed you guys! 

And I miss the Internet. Oh fuck, how I miss the Internet. I miss my Internet&Blog Writing Time. My nerdiness has gone from kind of charming in a neurotic way right into who-are-you-kidding-you-were-always-really-just-neurotic. I bet you really want an inside look, right? Well, here you go. Tour my neurotic nerd-dom all you want.  

The apartment:

I've never felt more useless in my entire life. I walk around in our new apartment and everybody is making themselves useful: they know how to work with tools and they have experience with fixing up houses. I don't. People have to give me really direct, specific instructions to do something, and even then it's just on a prayer. And you know fucking what? I have a Master's Degree and an I.Q that triples Kim Kardashian's*. I know stuff. I don't need people to tell me what to do because I can figure it out myself 99% of the time. Well, I'm now at the 1%. I'm the fucking Special Ed kid of Construction. And you know what this Special Ed kid gets to do? 

Paint. Dear readers, I am not the type to paint a hundred and seventy billion things. To be honest, I lose interest in painting after ten minutes (or a square feet of surface) but I power through. I want to be a trooper.

And for this to be over as soon as possible. Because this neurotic idiot does not function well without a solid home base, time for yoga, juicing, Internet and writing and a steady to do list of mostly Brain Creative things and very little Practical Shit to do. 

And...I have got to be fair...it really is becoming a dream place to live in. It is so beautiful. Perfect white walls, window cills and doors, those gorgeous stained glass windows in broad day light, our beautiful neutral bedroom with soft camel carpet. I've taken control of the kitchen with stacking super foods, making sandwiches and doing dishes.

And everything I'm going through now, the Internet withdrawal, no time for yoga, the complete lack of mental focus, and all this fucking painting, is for an amazing cause: a perfect apartment with this dream of a man who loves me. And who incidentally has enough handiness to make up for the both of us.  

I just want to live in this glorious place with my boyfriend. And the Internet. But don't get me started on that because that's going to take five fucking weeks and I am not amused. 

*I first typed Paris Hilton, but changed my mind. I actually think Kim Kardashian seems more stupid and I didn't want to brag. 

Announcement.

New website coming soon. Shit just got real. 

You're sad?

But since I personally always fail to convert sadness into instant awesomeness, here's what I do when I get sad: Cry. This may very from slight sobbing to complete hysteria. Express my feelings through writing, singing, texting a friend or calling my boyfriend. Go work-out. Sleep it off. 

...You're bored?

Painfully (Un)Aware.

It's deceivingly easy to carry on with my life as it is. It's not like I ever forget my mom has cancer (shit like that just doesn't slip your mind), but it's only vaguely present. I wonder if that's normal. I can't spend my days with the capitalized 'MY MOM HAS CANCER' neon-sign signaling in my head if I want to function, but I sometimes worry it's weird that I don't. That I'm not completely aware of it most of the time these days.

Because sometimes I slip into this hyperawareness that it's fucking shit. That someone as amazing and sweet as my mother has to go through all of these ordeals. That kills me. She shouldn't be going through all of this. I don't understand why this struggle has to be hers.

She's so happy for me. She loves our new apartment and whenever she can, she comes and help: fixing up a room, a wall, a cabinet. She says it distracts her from chemo side effects.  She enjoys hearing everything we've done for the house this far, she loves it when I am home, and I can just tell she's cherishing every moment she can.

I love that she's able to do that, but at the same time it breaks my heart: I wish she didn't have to. Not like this.

Genesis plays for one team...

You can imagine my amazement that after I wrote this, about the sexy shirtless Santa-Barbara stationed writers, one of the Sexy Shirtless Writers (Hi, James! ♥) sent me an e-mail to tell me he loved my blog. And if I'd consider to join Evolyfe and be one of their Sexy Writers. His grande selling line was that I was allowed to keep my shirt on. How could I say no?

So for this January's Issue, I am featured with the article below:

"I believe in connections between two people. Me and my boyfriend are so connected that if one of us is off, we’re both off. I have this crazy, wicked thing with my best friend where I can tell if she’s happy or sad, if she’s emotionally open or closed. I can feel it even if she’s across the Atlantic. 
Connections can be more easily established with some than others, but by making contact with someone you turn a connection ‘on’. Everything you do to invest in the other person, making them feel safe and loved, will further strengthen the connection. Falling in love is like infusing that connection with an electric power chord. It becomes a more important and meaningful bond; you give it an overdose of intimacy and affection, consequently the connection between you and your partner becomes stronger in less time. 
Connecting with another person is one of the most beautiful things in our lives. And whereas a big part of creating, strengthening and deepening this connection is a two-man job, I have found two strategies to make a connection deeper, fix an (underlying) issue in a relationship, or simply to improve the current connection, all on your own."

Want to read more? Click.

Fixing Up An Apartment: 4 Things I Learnt.

1. If you're doing a job*, you better be in it to fucking win it. 

Why? Because it's impossible to explain to someone else exactly where you left off, how you were doing it and what they're going to have to pay attention to, so you might as well finish the job. Also, you can't just quit halfway through: it will look like shit if you do.

*Applies to things like painting, scrubbing, smoothing, but also doing anything work-, study- or sex-related. Finish what you start. On that last remark: "They don't call it a job for nothing." (Click) 

2. If you're working on something*, you can make it a meditative exercise. 

Painting and things like that can actually work very relaxing. Just focus on what you're doing, concentrate on your breathing as well as the task at hand and you'll find that by being in the present moment, you become more relaxed.

*Any task in life, ever, will improve with 100% focus and a Zen attitude. 

3. If you're doing a task*, try to enjoy it. 

It makes time pass more quickly and you'll be done before you know it. So suck on sour candy, drink a good cup of coffee while you're working, hum along to the radio and have meaningful conversations with the people nearby.

*Applies to doing odd jobs, but also everything else in life. 

4. If you're doing it*, that's always a good thing. 

If I'm painting the kitchen window cill, the window cill gets painted. Similarly with the cabinet doors, bedroom window frames, etc. Shit gets done. Even if I don't do it perfectly, we can check items off our to-do list. Also, because since everybody's just happy there is one less thing to do, there is absolutely zero criticism. Score.

*Not sure if this applies to life, but one thing's for sure: people who criticize you are usually just offended by the fact you're actually doing something they never did or dared to do. And if you're doing it, you're opening the way for others to try it too, which is always a good thing. By being courageous, you give others the guts.

Our place.

I am so in love with our new place. Like, really. Now I know why I, after only one visit, felt like it was mine. Why I wanted to start clearing out some of my stuff, just in case I would have to pack. Why my heart said a wholehearted 'yes' when we were offered this place. I not only want to live with my boyfriend, I want to live with him in this particular place, and nowhere else. Nowhere else would do. Whenever I walk in the door, I know that this really is our place.

I am so happy with the perfect, luxuriously looking bathroom, which needs no fixing up whatsoever. The clean, simply kitchen. The two small rooms next to the master bedroom, perfect for an office, once we settle in. The master bedroom.

The entire place breathes so much character. The beautiful ceilings. The built-in closets and cabinets everywhere. The authentic wood work. I've never cared for character of a house, but that's now I think that's just because I've never felt it before.

Neither was I someone who goes mad for those old-fashioned, stained glass windows, but now they are all over our apartment, I can't get enough of them. I keep walking by them as I go up and down the stairs, as I open the balcony doors, as I enter the living room: pretty pretty pretty.

And although everything is a total mess right now, with tool boxes, paint, dust and trash everywhere, I know, I can feel it. I can see it in my mind's eye: this is my new home.


*Sorry I am not maintaining the daily blog posts, I am crazybusy with work, fixing up the place and spending time with my family. Once I feel a little less hectic and busy, I'll try harder to keep it up! 

First thoughts on 2012

I feel very blessed for starting this year the way I did.

Not just with the spectacular party I was at last night, dancing until my legs gave out at nine in the morning, but knowing that tomorrow, the 2nd of January, Lemon Man and I get the key to our glorious, two-story, three-bedroom apartment within the most beautiful neighborhood, a two-minute walk from our very best friends' place. I'm so happy to start living with him. We're ready.

That I'm a lucky girl with such amazing family and friends, who support me so, so much - sometimes in such unexpected, sweet ways. I feel very lucky also, with the sweet e-mails and messages I've been getting from several readers about how my blogs make their day and how they love reading. You have no idea how much that makes me glow. It makes me feel happy to know you like to read what I write. Purposeful too. I'm glad I have a positive impact on your life, however trivial.

That I'm fortunate enough to find work in what I love to do. I love my occupation even more than I ever imagined, and all the while I'm at liberty to explore my real job - what I was designed for, what I was born to do. All the while all these wonderful opportunities arise for me, these wonderful people who open their hearts and minds to me.

That I feel proactive, determined and goal-oriented. I believe that despite any external influence or circumstance, I create my life. I can't control the weather, the world or even the people around me, but I can still control my own thoughts and actions. Really, if you can do that you can do anything.

And 2012 will surely be hard in some aspects. I have no idea where things are going with my mother, although I refused to believe this was her last New Year's Eve. That just can't be right, it doesn't feel like that. And there might be other hard battles to fight, with things I don't understand, things that hurt me, things I have to come to terms with, but you know what?

I believe there is a lesson in everything and I also believe that I have all the resources, internal and external, to make it through.

And with everything else, I just know it's going to turn out even more extraordinarily wonderful than I could ever expected. It's a powerful thing, you know? To believe something like that. Try it. Believe this for the new year.

"Everything is going to turn out even more extraordinarily wonderful than I could ever expect."

The final message of 2011.

2011 was amazing. 2012 will be (even more) spectacular. I hope that you can say the same thing, and if not the first, then at least the latter. And that's all I really have to say about that. I'll be spitting shitloads of profanity-filled, smartmouth inspired blogs in 2012 - you have no idea. Have an incredible New Year's Eve and thanks so much for reading - I love you guys.

Kisses.

Shopping Trip 1.

Yesterday, our first shopping trip for our apartment started out real nice as I gave him direction to Big Chain D.Y.I. Shop #21 which actually turned out to be Big Chain D.I.Y. Shop #2. This is how I felt about that. Show 'em Harry: 

I'm sorry, but that's the result of how many fucks I had to give while I lived at home: zero. To be completely honest, I still don't care in the slightest, but now I do know at which exact location I don't give a fuck. 

After Lemon Man had finished laughing at me for being, well, myself, as we shopped we found two things were a great relief: One, he and I share a neutral, basic taste in furniture and colors. He doesn't want crazy colors, I don't want frilly shit everywhere. We just want beautiful and simple. Two, we can make decisions without screaming and embarrassing the absolute shit out of each other in public. I'd say that makes for a great living together basis as well as a very decent relationship. 

We found a very nice old-looking floor we both liked, we got wicked discounts everywhere we went and we also scored a beautiful dark rug for in the living room. Also, Lemon Man nearly crashed into a door when he was joy-riding his shopping cart, we discovered I'm a total wimp when it comes to carrying shit but I was a trooper and pushed through, and Lemon Man got a cheap disgusting hot dog at Ikea*. So that was good times too. 

To make things even better, Lemon Man wanted to go to Big Chain D.I.Y. Shop #3...and he pulled up on the parking lot of Big Chain D.I.Y. Shop #4. How can I not love that guy? 

*We didn't buy anything there except a skillet that was only two bucks. Not very productive, but cheap. And at least the man got a hot dog. 

Lessons 2011: Be a class act, not a trash cat.

Do you want to be a Regina George from Mean Girls? 

Do you want to be that coke-head from Cruel Intentions? 

Do you want to be any of the obnoxious loud-mouthed bitches you see in television shows and movies, who talk smack about other people and who make other people's lives miserable? 

You think it would be cool to be a real life Regina George? 

Or a Blair Waldorf? 

Well, I got news for you. 

Even with her amazing outfits, nobody wants to see Blair Waldorf arrive at the party. She will cause a humiliating scene, hurt people, cause a fight and ruin the mood. Everybody would rather have someone like that stay away.

Of course, there are some people love to see a Regina George or Blair Waldorf arrive...Because they are waiting, watching for her to fall. They will relish in the following demise.  

But very few people would actually genuinely like you if you were like that. And what's more, when you're 20, 25 or 30 and you look back on your life: how ashamed are you going to be of yourself if you spent so much of your time caniving, gossiping, scheming and plotting? 

The real character you should aspire to be is someone you don't see in the movies. Someone who is too boring for tv and theatre, because they don't cause riveting scenes at parties, they do not drunkenly run around and ruin high school proms.

If someone talks smack about you, ignore it. Do not let others or their behavior provoke you into Bitch Mode. Go hang out with people you love, do things that make you happy and if you can, send them love and light whenever you think of them.If things don't go your way, don't throw temper tantrum or devise a manipulative master plan. Get what you want with love, acceptance, patience and hard work towards good will. Don't try so hard to be fascinating and interesting. Instead, be interested in who and what is around you. Be nice, ask questions, listen to people, be genuinely friendly and charming.  

You probably won't get television time. But your life time will certainly improve. 

Lessons 2011: Ban Negativity.

For your mind, cultivate a positive attitude toward everyone and everything. This doesn't mean you have to pretend that everythng is fine. It means to look for the good in everything, and if you can't fnd any, figure out a way to put some in - Serge Kahili King. 

I am going to state it even more clearly than I have before (click):

Negative thoughts poison your mind. You don't have to deny your negative thoughts (click) but that doesn't mean you should just leave the door open and have a Pity&Pessimism parade in your head. Some effort and training towards positive thinking can go a long, long way: the more you try, the easier it will become. And the easier your life will be. Because a poisoned mind, whether you like it or not, leads to a sick life. I don't know anybody pessimistic and negative with a spectacular life -- and let's be serious: even if it were they'd be the last to recognize it. It's such a waste to let that happen when you could take control and cure yourself.

And allow me to take it further: Negative words poison your mind, your heart and everyone around you. Thing is, with negative words, it's not at all like venting or blowing off steam. That's a complete misconception, to justify your own negative behavior. But you are not a cup that is empty once you exclaim how terrible your job is. It's not that once you pour it out, you're done. You more resemble a fountain. Once you start pouring negative words, even paired with short-lived relief, more and more will come.

And the people around you who are just like you: they won't care. They will listen to the stream, add their own and you can have 'satisfying' social interaction like this. But the others, people who get tired of negativity, people who want to hear good and happy things? They will feel drained after being with you, because you suck away their energy. This will ultimately lead to them moving away from you, both physically and emotionally.

Gossip destroys your attitude. And that's not even mentioning that you only ever successfully ruin your own reputation instead of anybody else's. No good ever comes from saying mean things about another person.

I have the urge to be a total bitch just like anybody else. I've mentioned that before: people annoy the shit out of me sometimes. Sometimes I want to complain and have a pity party, sometimes I want to point out all the fucked up shit around me, sometimes I want to call out a copycat skank or a cheating douche bag.

But I notice that the harder I bite my tongue, not to say mean things, not to complain, not to gossip, the quicker the urge fades. The more energy I put into not saying terrible shit and instead focusing on the positive, the easier it gets. Because you know what?

If I think something bad, once it goes away, it's gone forever. Had I said it, it would have been out there. Probably forever. It would also have made a more lasting impression on myself: I apparently say shit about myself, the world or other people. It would have made an impression on the people around me: Genesis apparently say mean shit. Genesis might be a mean person.

And all of that could have been avoided if I just acknowledged my shitty thought but decided against putting it out there in the world.

I'm no saint. But the statement above "once it goes away, it's gone forever" often keeps me from acting on my lesser thoughts and impulses. It often reminds me to make the effort to go in the opposite direction: positivity.

Big News.

*Any resemblance of the people in the picture with me and Lemon Man is a coincidence; my ass hasn't been that small since 1999 and I have never seen my boyfriend wearing such ugly shoes. 

This morning, Lemon Man and I accepted a truly gorgeous apartment in the neighborhood we both want to live in. As soon as the contracts are signed, we get the key and we can start making a home. What a way to start my new year.

2011 Lessons: It's only broken if you break it.

I don't believe things ever get irreparably broken. Things can get shitty, awful, terrible. a relationship can be at a turning point, a job position might be made impossible, a family situation might go awry.

But crazy as it seems, that's not when things are broken. (Almost) anything can be fixed with patience and perseverance. As long as you want to fix it, I believe that you can*.That happens the very moment you think "Fuck it, fuck this, fuck you": that's when things are broken.

Because you break it. Because you withdraw. You cease and desist. You throw in the towel, you give up -- you're no longer in it to fix it. And that's when things are really beyond repair. Because you no longer care to repair it.

It's only broken when you decide to break it. Even if that's completely justified and understandable, even when the other person drives you to it, even when the situation has become so extreme or unbearable.

And it's not a threat or an accusation, it's just an observation. Because sometimes, breaking something is the only reasonable and sane thing to do. Sometimes, breaking it is the thing that fixes you eventually. Fuck, sometimes breaking it leads to fixing it all in the end. There is nothing wrong with breaking things. Sometimes in life, you need to break things.

But own it. Own the fact you are the one who makes or breaks anything. Take the responsibility that is already yours (even if you refuse to admit it: sorry bro). Whether it's through action or inaction, it's up to you.

*This does not apply to being dumped or fired. Don't stalk or beg. It's sad and creepy.