My Lost Love

Those of my friends and contacts who have read a few of my Blogs, would have known that it's habitual I sign my Blog pics. Not today, because I didn't edit this one. While searching a picture to head today's Blog earlier, I came across this one which I pushed aside a long while ago, when it was sent to me by one of my contacts. It somehow made me very uncomfortable, almost felt a bit eerie as it strangely evoked old and painful memories. I decided to use it today and Blog about it because I want to lay old ghosts to rest.

In my early teens I went one day with my boyfriend to spend a lazy Sunday at the beach. I said boyfriend but he was a man, more than 10 years my senior. A few hours later he became my fiancé as he proposed right there at the beach, soaking wet and breathless, and I readily said yes. He was so happy! He kissed me, did a doubt somersault, got himself covered with sand, and ran off into the sea.

He never returned. His body was found more than a day later by the police. Drown after a bad cramp it was supposed; and he being an excellent swimmer, several times champion in competitions.

I have not been in the water ever again. Many years later, when I was already living where I do now, right by the sea, I started going to the beach, just to sit and lose myself in thought, only rarely when I went with another boyfriend. On one of those occasions, as I wouldn't go anywhere near water, my boyfriend went in alone leaving me sitting on the beach. I absent-mindedly drew on the sand with my finger 'Miss you', without dwelling too much on the past. Until Boyfriend's laughing voice 'woke' me saying 'I had only been gone 10 minutes, you miss me already?'

Back to this photo and the contact who sent it to me. He was in a habit of sending me very amorous messages and photos of himself, or of me to which he had done some arty changes, this one I posted above amongst them. This photo was not even taken on a beach, but he had added the sand, and strangely the only words I myself had ever written on sand and I had never told him about my past. For some inexplicable reason I didn't threw away the photo but had not as much as looked at it. In fact I had forgotten it's existence, until very recently. The eerie feeling returned, and this time, I thought ... could it be ...? No! Yes? Perhaps???

The contact I deleted from my list soon after that. Not because he had done that picture, but I couldn't handle those endless love notes. Now I am not so sure. A totally crazy thought lodged itself in my mind, of contacting him again, but then I don't even remember what he called himself!! I am not too serious about that idea anyway. It's too silly. How could he have anything to do with my lost friend? Dead. Gone forever.

Tags:lostlove, photo, missyou

• Current Mood: confused

Where There's A Will ...

Friday night in Spain, at least in my corner of it, is the night of sex and drugs, at least on TV. Nearly all the programmes are about all aspects of these vices, recently more of it's commercial side; the sex and drug trade. There are endless stories of prostitutes, pimps, addicts, traffickers, rapists and child molesters. If a Martian lands in Spain on this night and watch TV, he would run off convinced that this must be the most sordid hole of perdition of the cosmos.

There are fictional stories, semi-documentaries, reality programmes; one about under aged prostitutes in Cuba, with hidden cameras filming their activities and street life, rape cases with testimonies of victims and witnesses, some include reconstruction using actors, selling these to TV viewers instead of films and entertainment, which no doubt costs more to make programmes with known actors and lots of technicians, involving studios and location costs. Or cabarets needing fantasy settings, costumes, musical bands & equipment.

With Sex as appetizer, a team of 4 or 5 and a camera, following some people of the street, many of whom would be so besotted of appearing on TV, would likely be more than happy to do it for nothing.

Amongst all that, mostly rubbish, there was one documentary I thought rather interesting. A docu-report with the main titled '''Extraordinary People', and sub-titled: 'Incapacitated - Sex for one night'. It's a British production of reality-documentary-report, following 3 disabled men - one with damaged mellow, one with muscular disorder, and one blind - first the interview where they voiced their demand of the right to enjoy sex, then the recorded and filmed adventure of them turning their wish into reality.

As they found they were forever unceremoniously turned down by girls they meet, purely for their physical state, they decided to organize a trip, helped and support by the parents of one of them, to visit a 'Club' where girls are happy to 'help', in exchange for some € of course. They said they are asking only what is every man's right to experience being with a woman, to be caressed, pampered, to enjoy carnal contact and sexual pleasure. If there are women who are willing to give them what they wish voluntarily, and the payment is handed over also voluntarily, who is to say that's wrong?

How does one distinguish the difference of this noble exchange from prostitutes and customers and therefore a sex deal? This 'club' they visited, naturally or coincidentally, is in Costa Brava!

Tags: sex, drug, docureport

• Current Mood: awake

The Buffalo Theory - Why Is Beer Good For You

Buffalo Theory - I don't think I've ever heard the concept explained any better than this ~ 'Well you see, Norm, it's like this . . . A herd of buffalo can only move as fast as the slowest buffalo. And when the herd is hunted, it is the slowest and weakest ones at the back that are killed first. This natural selection is good for the herd as a whole, because the general speed and health of the whole group keeps improving by the regular killing of the weakest members. In much the same way, the human brain can only operate as fast as the slowest brain cells. Now, as we know, excessive intake of alcohol kills brain cells. But naturally, it attacks the slowest and weakest brain cells first. In this way, regular consumption of beer eliminates the weaker brain cells, making the brain a faster and more efficient machine. And that, Norm, is why you always feel smarter after a few beers.'   Tags: buffalo, beer

• Current Mood: amused

Jokes To Amuse Your Pub Buddies

Pub Jokes are not necessarily dirty. Tell these in your bar tonight ~

** You'll be delighted to know, readers that alcohol does not make you fat. Will and Guy have discovered that it makes you lean: against tables, chairs, floors, walls and people.

** Perhaps the biggest drunk we've ever met was the fellow who saw the billboard that read, "Drink Canada Dry." He went there and tried to do it.

** A drunken man gets on the bus late one night, staggers up the aisle, and sits next to an elderly woman. She looks the man up and down and says, 'I've got news for you. You're going straight to hell.' The man jumps up out of his seat and shouts, 'Oh no, I'm on the wrong bus, I wanted to go to Baltimore.'

** Remember, an alcoholic and a drunk are not the same thing at all. The alcoholic has to attend meetings.

** Ever hear the expression "hard drinker"? Never made much sense to me, drinking is one of the easiest things in the world to do.

** Booze is the answer. I don't remember the question.

** A drunk is brought in front of the judge.

The judge says, 'You've been brought here for drinking.'

The drunk says, 'Okay, let's get started.'

** Richard comes home from a night of drinking. As he stumbles through the front door, his wife snaps at him, 'What's the big idea coming home half drunk?' Richard replies, slurring, 'I'm sorry honey. I ran out of money.'

** Many things can be preserved in alcohol. Dignity is not one of them.

** An amnesiac walks into an inn and asks the barman, 'Do I come here often

Tags:Drinks,Drunks

• Current Mood: cheerful