Women and Tears

You will wonder what a weird title this is - it came to me - as always I have the best ideas in the early morning - when I had to get up today. Loads of checklists in my head and then, this popped up at 6.30, to be exact. Not that I felt tearful - more tired and in need for another 2 hours of undisturbed sleep perhaps, but otherwise in good mood and form. Having started to work again has done wonders to my "Morale".

But back to the essentiels on tearful women.
First, it is important to know that we women have only two ways of crying - or out of sheer misery, helplessness and compassion  - or, out of pure rage and the bloody feeling of being powerless.
There is a third, very rare way: crying as manipulation - but beware, this is a high art, not to be mastered easily and highly dangerous to employ - it is indeed very difficult to look beautiful when you cry and the effect of smeared mascara all over your cheeks may not help you in your quest. It is wise to be aware that at least after 17 a tearswollen face is not attractive.

One more and important thing to be aware of is also, that men in general do not know how to behave when a woman is crying. If a child cries, it is easy -  men start to utter bearlike sounds and we females get motherly feelings, go down on our knees and try to consolate the little person. If a child is miserable, we react immideately - child -tears-compassion: in a second,  the reaction is on. Not to be confused with the almost icy reaction towards a tantrum in the supermarket...

If a woman is crying, male mankind normally gets very unconfortable. It is more than rare to find a grown adult male, who is capable of staying put, stay calm and quiet and who does not instinctively  try to inhibit the female counterpart of letting liters of salty water flowing down his shirt.
The normal reaction is bewilderment, uneasiness and  an urge to flee the premises.
Another reaction is the famous angry shut-down to business mentality: stop it, nobody is impressed by this show. Both things are the wrong reaction, messieurs.
Ideal would be to endure it while it lasts and then move on to some nice other topic, giving the wet producer the feeling, that it is ok and we do not talk about this any longer. Believe me, there is a lot of relief to be found for both sides in this attitude.

But back to female tears. I think we are lucky - having this legal way of letting of steam, which otherwise would end up in suicide or manslaughter - depending which kind of tears you are on.

It is common knowledge that having a good cry is one of the best therapeutic things to indulge in, cheap and feasible whereever you are. Best alone for a real therapeutic effect, or only in very good and beloved company. Place and time do count as well. A good place could be in your car, at the parking of the supermarket or shopping malls - nobody looks at you there, and you are not completedly alone. Or your bed - but this is dangerous, as it can be a long session, especially during the little hours of the night, where the mind is randomly picking horrors and fears and indulge in them. But one advantage: a foolproof way of falling asleep - a little cry and hop, off you go into Morpheus´arms like a baby.

All that said: too much crying makes your eyes wrinkled and baggy - so please try to remember, that laughing is much better for you, your face and your environment. Anyway - both are so close, that it is always much more fun to laugh. Even in the worst circumstances.

Traffic in Brussels - Impressions

The other day I had to rush home after work, to relieve my poor old dogs -  they had been staying alone at home for the whole day and I  was fearing the worst - at least for my curtains and perhaps even for the carpet in the living room...

So, off I dashed and guess, what happened to me: Traffic Jams all over the place.
There were no traffic lights - apparently the whole "European Quartier" had no electricity... So, please, imagine  a rush hour + roundabouts+buses+pedestrians+drivers of different nationalities all together trying to get out of this mess and to go home to their respektive dogs, cats, children, ovens or shops.

No police far and near and up and down to be seen. We were all on our own.

It felt like being in a huge malstrom  - you simply cannot move in any direction and have to wait until, centimeter by centimeter, you can gain territory and then take all your courage to speed into the smallest little spaces available for you and your car: Furious looks from all parties. Resignated frowns. Some start to toooooooooooot. One feels like killing the innocent neighbour - who turns out to press so near to your car, that you are indeed in danger of getting scratched - and he hears loud beat music and smokes in his car. Indignation starts to mount its ugly head.
I feel transported back to my times in countries far far away, where 6 files of cars instead of 3 was a normal situation, but not as stressful as this, as everybody was driving according to the "rules" and the traffic eventually moved.

Here we have the famous clash of civilisations -  north versus south, east versus west ( please not the political correctness in this statement),  young versus old and lawabiding against entrepreneurial styles of driving. Oh God. It was hell.
It took me almost an hour with a quick run through fury, impatience, resignation, dumb acceptance and the rare flickering of sportive search for an oportunity and muchmuch patience to get home after all, but I did it - expecting the worst. But the children had arrived before me and there was no catastrophe. Clever dogs - all the stress for nothing!

An Ode to La Rentrée

Voilà, c´est la rentrée! Back to school!

Life is getting back to normal.

The children started school two days ago and are happy to be busy, seeing their friends again. The lovely fresh and clean folders and books with their names on them are not yet mutilated by bored graphic training during the lessons and  they are reliefed - to be honest - to have some more structure in their lifes.
Nothing more boring than endless days of holidays without programmes and duties for them.
(We, on the other hand, now being oldies and without illusions any longer, love endless "idle" days - the luxury of sitting in your salon and just looking stupid in the air... Not so the young. And they are right.)

After this very wet summer, it looks like we shall have a very wet autumn as well  - so goodbye to the hopes for a lovely and cosy Indian Summer with high temperatures during golden Septemberdays and the twilight pleasure of getting your cardigans out to put them over the lovely linendress in the afternoon. Finally we can start to dress more like grown ups again - so difficult in t-shirts and shorts to look respectable.

For me this slow change in  temperature, light and quality of air is one of the great pleasures of the approaching autumn.


Indeed, september and october are some of my favourite months - the summer/holiday feeling swings over in the happy forecast of things to come, of cooler days, the first fire in the open fire place,  putting another woolblanket over your bed and storing away those summersandals. You willl think of changing your handbag from the white summer one back to the - in my case - green - autumn one. Out go the corals, whites and bright blues in your wardrobe, in come the soft greys, the first dark greens and  you will have to inspect your socks and stockings. This also is the time to have a look through your silk scarfs and accessoires...
And book a date with your favourite hairdresser to get the glory on your head back into the best possible condition after all that beach and bleach in the sun! For the very conscious, a dive into facials, pedicures and manicures is de rigeur. We other mortals go and have a look at the first collections of  lipsticks at MAC and Maybelline.

We wait eagerly for the september and october issues of our favourite fashion magazines, just to be sure, that orange and red this fall/winter is the colour to sport. Lucky the ones who have a Red Handbag!

Careful consideration is required for boots and coats - right  now the perfect time to go shopping, as the collections are just in  freshly arrived and choice in models and sizes (just think of shoes in  size 40 - gone in a moment!) is still vast. The other  good opportunity to shop for those items are the sales in january - quite a clever move, if you are more on the classic side.

Once again we study the programmes of the opera  and concerts coming up until Christmas. There are some treats coming up... And the idea to go to the cinema is not longer prompted by the need of aircondition, but by the genuine desire to see the latest Woody Allen, or if you prefer more darkish thoughts, the last Lars von Trier movie.

In September, also the first cocktails show up pretty soon, followed by belated birthday parties and perfumed by the genuine desire to see ones friends again  - everybody is tanned and happy to be back.
Until Christmas now time will fly.
Start to think about presents and Christmas Cards now - especially if you have not yet a picture of your dear ones in the box...! On our fridge, the Christmas list is hanging since yesterday - together with the new busschedule and timestables for school.

In the end,  for me the "year" starts in september - not in january.
My life goes from summerholidays to summerholidays - linked to the schoolrhythms and the two big changes in the year - winter to spring in march/april and then summer to autumn in september/october.
I could forgo happily the 6 weeks from the first of january until the 15th of february. Most dreaded time of the year.

In memory of Loriot

You all know our pugs. The reason why I have always adored pugs is, or unfortunately has been, the responsibility of Vico von Buelow, alias "Loriot". If the german language has ever had a congenial satirist and humoristic artist, then it was him - the greatest german humourist, if one can say so and if something like that in Germany is possible. His death at the age of 88 is a great loss to all of us.

It was him who said, that, roughly translated, "A life without pugs is possible, but not desirable".
He is, of course, right.

To show you what I mean I have included here 3 youtube films - spoken in german by Loriot himself and starring his own pugs. Unfortunately the spoken text is very important to get a grip of the films - sorry for those of you, who do not speak german. For all the others: have fun!

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7kV27_jIIw4  "Der wilde Waldmops"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hh5R6dFgEsA&feature=related "Moepse am Nordpol"

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hh5R6dFgEsA&feature=related "Moepse auf dem Mond"