New Year, New hopes, New dreams

So…are you ready for the fireworks? To start the New Year with a bang? You should be…because you’re ending this year with a bang too! Have you cleaned the house and settled all outstanding issues so as not to carry anything into the New Year that is not in order or “clean”? And have you chosen that ravishing dress, or stunning shirt to wear tonight? Don’t forget to keep those black-eyed peas in your purse/wallet too, for they are said to bring extra money for the New Year!

Ever wondered about all these New Year traditions and myths? Well, it’s all part of starting the year with renewed hope and aspirations for the future. It’s like wiping the slate clean. And everyone wants a fresh start every now and then. It’s about looking forward to something good, something positive, and yearning for that something to come with the strike of midnight on 31 December. That’s why people like to dress up and party on New Year’s Eve. It’s the time to let the year that passed be gone, and welcome a new one, that will bring with it new hopes, new dreams and new experiences. It’s letting go of Father Time and nurturing a new Baby Year to life.

As for those longed-for fireworks at midnight – well, some say it’s because the loud noises scare away all the evil spirits, so that nothing bad will endanger the cheer and prosperity wished for on 1 January. And as the year turns, don’t forget to welcome it with a hug, a kiss, a smile, a positive cheer and renewed hope for a better 365 days to come. And whilst singing “Auld Lang Syne” just let go of all the painful, negative memories of the year that’s passing, and rejoice that there will be more time to realize your dreams, set your goals (just stick to at least one resolution this year!), and experience life at its fullest!

Happy New Year!

Καλή Χρονιά!

Frohes neues Jahr!

Buon Anno!

Bonne Année!

Feliz Año Nuevo!

…and in all other languages!!!

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Freedom in a pen

Different people have different things they’re good at. Different talents or ‘gifts’. Some are good at sports, at computers, or at telling jokes. Others draw, sing or paint. I write. Why? Because having a pen in my hand, a notebook on my lap and scribbling away feels natural. Because staring at a blank page on a screen long enough is bound to be followed by a few endless minutes of furious typing. Because the ideas in my head, to me, seem to be rushing out effortlessly onto the page. Because writing is my “thing”. It’s what I think I do best and most importantly, it’s what I enjoy.

So when and how do you know when you’ve found the one thing you want to do? How did I know, for example, that I wanted to write? When (early on) I read an article and was so mesmerised by how simple yet eloquent it appeared. At how it was so beautifully written yet it seemed so humble and elegant at the same time. When something causes your awe you know it is definitely worth it. And because in reading that article I felt the magic that I would want my readers to experience through my writing.

I write because I have something to say. And just like some people speak (even if often too much and without saying anything), I write. There is a deep and overwhelming sense of satisfaction when you know that people are reading your work and talking about it. Gratification coming without the cold sweat running down your spine and those numerous wide-open eyes staring at you and your every move. Plus, it gives you a chance at a second glance – a re-read and an edit. To add and subtract phrases or words. It offers you an opportunity to be as close as possible to perfect. To the best you can be.

For me writing entails a freedom that can hardly be found anywhere else. It allows you to pour out your soul, your ideas and your thoughts. Shamelessly, unabashed and unafraid. Writing gives you a voice even if you think you don’t have one. And if done well, through your writing you can persuade even a stubborn disbeliever into admitting or accepting your point of view, even if they do not agree with it. After all, it’s all in the expression.

So sometimes, the pen is indeed mightier than the sword (or any weapon or tool for that matter!). For in the end, characters, personalities, places and dreams are created by the pen and sometimes even lived as a result of it.  Through writing there is so much more to gain than to lose. And as long as your heart is guiding your hand, you will never be short of ideas. Writing is after all a passion. One that you feel, you live, and, you can share.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Express Yourself!

22 December, 2012

So apparently, the world has not ended. At least not in the disastrous-end-of-the-world-all-time-catastrophe that everyone was expecting. So for the systems to be all up and running and this post to be online, and you to be reading it, means we’re all still here. And we still have to face the challenges that lie ahead.

All this worrying, agony and anxiety for what will happen come 21 December 2012, however, has worn me out! Do you know how many outfits I had to go through to find the right one? And I still don’t know if what I chose yesterday was appropriate for the end of the world… Then again, I think now it is time to take a vacation! I think you should too! After all, we did survive the end of the world…

50 shades of white

She woke up feeling undesirable that day. Only Vixen could understand her loneliness. She hadn’t been touched by him for almost a month now. Why? Was she getting fat? Was she getting old? Was it the white hair? What was wrong? Cupid tried to calm her down and reassured her that she was just as gorgeous and desirable as during her younger hippy years. She wished he thought so too. The girls finally convinced her to seduce him that night. Prancer chose her sexy outfit, while Vixen gave her tips on what to do. She felt confident and ready!

Come nightfall she lit up all the candles in the bedroom. Put on her lace underwear and waited. He was bound to arrive soon. She slid into the en-suite bathroom for a clearer view of him. It didn’t take long for the door to open and him to enter. He took off his boots, his shirt and his pants. Her heart was pounding. He was so masculine! She slowly opened the bathroom door and posed – just like she saw Marilyn do in all those movies. Sexy and desirable. As she felt at the moment. His heart began to race and he felt he was going to have a heart attack. “My, my” he said, quite aroused. “You look…”. “Yes, I do”, she interrupted his gulping. She started moving towards the bed, as he stood up ready to engulf her in his arms. “It’s been too long”, they both thought.

She wanted to race over and jump into his arms with her legs wrapped around him like she has seen lovers do and then both of them fall back on the bed.

She tried doing that.

It worked in her head.

But not in reality.

She jumped onto him. Their bellies clashed. He fell back onto the bed which broke clashing with a thump and causing a crack on the floor. “My back” he managed to muffle from within Mrs Claus’s big breasts.

Rudy had been woken up by the noise and the dust falling on his head – his room was beneath Santa’s. Frightened as he was, he alerted the others, and soon nine reindeer were indiscreetly poking in on an almost indecent scene – Santa on his back on a bed on the floor and Mrs Claus right on top of him in her lacy underwear. “Well, that’s not something for the kids”, said Rudy. “No, that’s Santa’s Xmas!” laughed Vixen.

One bright reindeer

Everyone knows the story of Rudy (a.k.a. Rudolph-the-red-nosed-reindeer). But not many people know how he got his red nose. Fortunately, Kosmo the elf let me in on the secret (and no, Rudy was not bitten by a firefly).

When Rudy was young, kids at school teased him because of his big ears. Rudy was embarrassed and one day ran into the forest. Trotting along he fell down a hole, through a tunnel, into the dwarf mines. It was dark and humid, and Rudy was scared. He tried to yell but his voice couldn’t be heard. “Someone please help me”, he thought with all his might.

Suddenly he saw a little light coming his way. It was Pixie, the fairy, who heard his plea for help! “I will spray some of this magic fairy dust onto your little nose,” explained Pixie. “It will illuminate long enough for you to follow the path ahead out of the mines”. Rudy nodded contently! Pixie opened the lid of the little shiny container, and glittery dust fell on Rudy’s nose.

“Aaaachoooooo!” he sneezed with a little more force than needed. Pixie was blown out of balance and the vial flew out of her hands and emptied….right on Rudy’s nose! “Oh no!” he thought, “what now?” “I don’t know,” cried Pixie, “it’s never happened before!”

And that is how, Rudy ended up with a bright red nose to guide the sleigh.

“Come on Rudy,” Santa called, “it’s almost time!”

Tuning the cheer

“Jeeeengel Bells Jeeengel Beels” he shrieked and the reindeers covered their ears.

“Blitzen!” shouted Prancer trying to overcome the screeching. “If we are to make any money at all this year, you’re gonna have to at least pretend that you’re singing”. “But I am singing” said Blitzer surprised. “Just try not to yell as much” said Donner.

The reindeers had gone out carol-singing. Blitzen always looked forward to this time of season, for he believed singing was his talent. He saw himself as the Pavarotti of reindeers, the pop-rock-hip-hop-opera star all in one! But none of the other reindeers thought so. Blitzen appeared so sure of himself that he wanted to stand-out, but ended up out-of-tune and yelling.

One day, while visiting Madame Lafreeze to spread the seasonal cheer, as soon as she heard the squealing amidst the singing she thought someone was in pain and rushed to call an ambulance. It took the reindeer about 30 minutes to reassure her no-one was hurt.

Even the pet penguin ran away when Blitzen started to “sing”. And Mrs Claus hid all her crystals. You know, just in case.

One day Blitzen woke up sad. He decided to take a shower to rejuvenate himself. Suddenly, the whole house woke up to the sound of a crystal-clear, beautiful melody. Dancer rushed to the shower, to find Blitzen singing happily. “See what happens, when you’re calm?” he said.

And from then on, Blitzen led the choir! Falalalalalalalala!

Cooking á la Donner

There was once a young reindeer called Donner

Who could never sit still in a corner (it really depended on the corner, though).

His favourite food was Kebab in a platter (a big one!)

Which he would get take-away from McHutter.

The other reindeers all called him chubby,

But he argued he was just big and fluffy.

He was the first in the kitchen to help Mrs Claus

For he loved how the food got stuck in his dew-claws.

When she started making the batter,

He rushed-in to engage in the spatter.

He grabbed the big knife,

The food on the counter to slice.

He was so enthusiastic and bright,

Simply carrying on in his excite.

Chopping away he went,

Not really caring what got spent.

Mrs Claus turned to see how the process was going,

For a reindeer with a knife in hand may seem a bit ironic (not for Donner though!).

Tomatoes were chopped and so was the lettuce,

Potatoes in oven and so was the Angus (yes, the burger).

Stuffing was ready to make the pies,

This was the best part of cooking for all the guys.

Mrs Claus stood aside watching all proud,

How her “little” helper had grown-up so endowed.

The pies were ready to place in the oven,

Donner even felt he had started to hover!

He lit up a match to light up the furnace,

But the gas was already on and BOOM went the premise!

Aiming for…the target

Santa woke up by the sound of window crashing and with an arrow on his butt. Muffles could be heard. Hooves jostling on the wooden floors and havoc ensued.

“CUUUUUPID!!!!!” he yelled!

Mrs Claus came in with a bowl of hot water. She knew how to treat an arrow head in the skin. After all, this wasn’t their first time.

Cupid was ashamed. Again. He didn’t mean for the arrow to hit Santa. He was practicing his archery you see, the thing he loved the most. And he was actually aiming for the target in front of him. So, it wasn’t really his fault that the arrow flew behind him instead.

“Maybe you just need to practice more,” Blitzen said trying to calm him down. “Or maybe you need to use less force,” suggested Dasher. “Maybe it’s the arrows that need to change,” said Prancer.

Cupid felt a bit better. He would try again. After all, practice makes perfect.

Comet handed him his latest invention – a “modern” arrow that would navigate itself and strike the target.

Cupid was certain he would hit bulls-eye this time.

He lifted his oak-tree bow. Placed the arrow in position and pulled back the string launching the arrow with mathematical precision into the air. For some reason though, the arrow made a U-turn and whooshed past them!

Crashing glass was heard and then…

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaoooooowwwwwwwww”, Santa shrieked.

“Whoops!” said Comet and Cupid together! Maybe Santa was the true target?!

Close Encounters of a Reindeer Kind

“Why? Why is it not possible?” he said playfully. “If we are living here, why is it not possible that they are living there? At the other side of the galaxy?” asked Comet inquisitively. “Extra-terrestrial reindeer!”

He was always the one with his head in the clouds. Literally. When flying the sleigh, Comet was the one who always flew the highest. He said he loved the “woolly” feeling of the clouds sliding against his ears.

Comet believed that Santa’s mission should not be confined to this planet alone and that the cheer could be spread throughout the universe. He dreamt of flying into space and delivering gifts to the Martians. So he made it his goal to make the sleigh into a festive rocket-ship which would be able to reach other planets.

They called him a dreamer. But he said he wasn’t the only one.

He put on his work clothes and entered the garage where his test-sleigh was kept. All his tools were set out on the floor around it. There was still a lot to be done. But Comet was sure. He would one day fly (or dance) with the stars.

He began drilling the sides. Then tried to fire-glaze a component he built last week. He called it the “fly cracker”.

Nothing seemed to happen.

Then…

“Caboom!” The sleigh rocketed off, flew up for a few metres, then came crashing down.

Santa yelled. And Comet thought, “well, maybe next year!”

While he was sleeping

She chose her finest silk negligée to wear for tonight. Pink and see-through. Sprayed one flick of her sensual aroma in the air to walk through like she saw rich ladies do in the movies. Put on her high-heeled sandals with the fluffy pink feathers and was set. If Prancer saw her, she would have called her pretentious and sluty. But she knew that was the jealousy talking. She was just ravishing. And everyone could see that.

She tiptoed (as much as possible on four inch heels) out of her boudoir and into the hallway. It was dark. The wind had blown-out the side candles and she could barely see where she was going. It’s a good thing she knew exactly where Cupid’s door was. She opened it slightly and heard him rustle the sheets as he rolled over. She slowly walked in. She had played this out in her head so many times, she was certain that it would all go perfectly. She was a diva after all. Simply irresistible. He was covered up over his head. She could barely see anything except the sheets moving. She leaned in and whispered in his ear “don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm tonight”. She lifted up the sheets and crawled in.

“Ouch!!!” yelled Santa and sprang up. “Vixen, what on snow are you doing here?””

Vixen blushed! She had the wrong room! “Bad dream!” she said and rushed out. What a nightmare before Christmas!