Follow by Email

Friday, 6 May 2011


Culture and society dictates at that a certain point, age, stage, size or level one should be acting in a certain way.
At my age, I should be more serious and have many things bedded down in my life (sexy, talented others inadmissable from Maturity List of course). Status should be on the up and up, and not necessarily "Deliriously Happy"on Facebook or UVFO (Unidentified Very F-ble Object) discovered under coffee table after Ladies Night.
Being of sound and desperate breeding and socialisation, I actually managed to tick off quite a few items on the All Grown Up list and then felt incredibly tired. It was always getting and doing more (instead of being more). There was always another peg on another pole and something more desirable and fashionistic which was an absolute Have to Have. But flushworthy that train of thought as I am reminded by the small, but powerful moments that Less is indeed More.
For instance, all the people stuff I've studied and wrestled with for most of my adult life are nothing in the face of Pierre teaching me Logic and unhormonal reason when I am completely Diva-esque. When my assumptions are neutralised and when a smile, nod or frown undoes my complete-but-faulty thesis on What Men Really Want when the Final is on. Choosing, deliberating and begging the gods of Illusion for an outfit from a heap of possibilities effortlessly negated by a simple: Why are we dressing for bed anyway? So there are letters that define an entire wardrobe and couture is instantly minimalistic without losing the heat. T- and G- strings are but mere samples of the new and improved au naturelle range.
Doing more physical activity means less time to fight with fridge and scale and eating is so last season when you're nibbling and scratching the surfaces of other more meaningful things.
Less stress too as Pierre knows within moments what he wants to do, how badly, how many times and with how little post-performance analysis. Sport, food, cars, his mom, his friends, me, me, me  - a simple enough equation. And as soon as I need to "pick his brain" and "sound things off" I see the donut glaze and the boy-meets-Others shutters come down so I also spend a few more moments on the JOY in the moment, and less on the history and the foreboding of the headlights / tunnel lights or whatever reality light fixtures are available.

Which reminds me: I need to retrieve one of my short-but-sweet clothing items from the chandelier. Oops ...