It’s my Birthday today and I’m a whole 34 years old. Now, I’m not saying that’s old because it isn’t. But I am flabbergasted how time flies. I feel like just yesterday I was 28 and having wonderful love affairs with 24 year old boys.
And now? Now, I’m in my mid-fucking 30’s and wondering where on earth did all the time go.
I had a party on Friday night. It was just a small gathering, but it was loads of fun. My best girls Winnie, C and Stella got particularly excited and I was scrubbing red velvet cupcake off the neighbours courtyard on Sunday afternoon, as well as buying them bottles of wine to apologise for the ’shenanigans’ on Friday night.
I told my BFF Ant about it, and she was like, honey there was a time when you would totally have been the out-of-hand one. Yeah, I guess that’s the thing about getting older. You start to behave yourself more.
This year’s celebration has been filled with champagne and good food, dear friends and awesome family. So really, what more could a girl wish for?
Well, maybe less wrinkles (take it from someone who knows: stay out of the sun kids, ‘cos your skin is not always going to look that good).
Oh, and a big girl apartment. Phleasse.
And an American husband. Sooner rather than later, thanks.
Other than that, I think I am good to go. Hello 3-4!
XKB
We had an important client in town a couple of weeks back which meant a lot of early mornings and late nights. Sleep deprivation aside, I was really loving my job that week.
The client in question is a fascinating woman; a woman who is entirely self made and who has, by her own admisson, manifested everything she has ever wanted.
Trust me when I say I was so taking notes.
The most telling thing about her is her presence. She walks into a room, and people notice. She is vehemently committed to glamour, and repeatedly told me: KB, there is not nearly enough of it in the world today. She also has a story; one that is pretty beguiling.
Now, this got me thinking. About the notion of ‘allure’. About how to make a statement simply by walking into a room. About how every woman should exude a mix of mystery and myth.
(Aside: Take it from someone who doesn’t practice what she preaches: a little mystery is a must. From brand building to dating, you should always keep people guessing. Just a little)
There was, however, one thing that Norma (the beguiling client) felt she hadn’t quite got right; a successful relationship. She divorced her first husband at 30, and he got two houses out of her. Her second marriage didn’t end so well either.
Jackie O once said: “I’d like to share what I’ve learned with all young women I meet, because I wished I’d have known it at your age – never marry, never mix your money”. Word Jackie.
This fabulous nugget comes from a book called The Gospel according to Chanel. As in Coco.
Talk about a powerfully alluring women who was “exacting, luxury loving and unwilling to settle’. Oh, there is much to be learnt from Coco. From her sense of style to her business acumen, to her take on men and money. But at the core, she believed that self invention was key. Alter what you don’t like.
She also didn’t believe in relying on a man. If you’re waiting to be saved, ‘you wind up with little choice in the matter. You get what you get’. And never believe your press.
For Norma though, it all ultimately comes down to one thing….Follow your bliss. And be as glamorous as hell while you’re at it.
XKB
PS To that end, every girl should wear a fuck off sparkly dress with feathers. At least once in her life.
* Quote by Loretta Young
As you may or may not have noticed, it’s been a while since I blogged. Yes, the summer is here and yes work has been mad busy (PR is important, life changing stuff people).
I also haven’t written though because I’ve been in a kind of blue funk KB IN NYC wise. I’ve seriously considered no longer writing this blog. Because, you know, I was beginning to wonder what it was all about.
(Aside: I overthink things way too much. I’m such a fucking girl like that).
This weekend was the much anticipated Blogher conference. I didn’t really want to go because I am just bone weary and these days I’m only a faux blogger (you have to actually blog to be a blogger right?). And also, Blogher is all about the yummy-mummy bloggers and god knows I don’t fit into that category.
(Aside: Uh, yeah. Thanks for the play doh set in the swag bag which, just for the record, even if I was a yummy mummy I STILL wouldn’t be impressed with because who the fuck wants to take home a play doh set?).
Part of the blog crisis thing has been what exactly am I wanting to achieve here? And what exactly do I want to be writing about?
Thing is I do have a TON of things I want to write about. Non-dating things. But then, I don’t want to give my readers apples when they’re used to pears. Then again, does that really matter? Because my readers are pretty fucking awesome and I think they are pears AND apples kind of people.
Being at Blogher was incredibly cool and inspiring, and has reignited the spark. It also clarified the following :
1. I still can not get behind breast feeding in public (I know, very un-pc of me but really. Gross)
2. It doesn’t matter if I have one reader or 1000. It’s about what I like to write about because, you know, you’ll never please everybody all the time
3. Being a blogger means you have a voice. It also means that you have to think about the people and/ or stories that you tell. Treat everyone with respect (and if you’re taking the mickey out of them, do it with love – ALWAYS)
4. Write regularly. I owe it to myself. And to my ten readers
5. It’s okay to not always be consistent. Some days I can be witty as shit. Others days I’m just plain boring. That’s life
6. More writing; analyze and edit less
7. Be true to myself
8. Oh, and yes. Blogging fucking rocks
XKB
I finally finished reading The Red Book and ladies, it’s a must read. It’s jammed packed with a bunch of good stuff all about how truly divine (as in deliciously goddess-like) we really are.
There is so much I’ve taken away from it, but today I wanted to share with you the part about sex.
See, The Red Book is all about sexy times but not in a drunken, badly behaved kind of way but in a rapturous, blissful, awesomely profound way.
Now, we all know that sex is powerful. And there are a million different experiences of it; some wonderful, some not so much.
For my own part, my reasons for getting down and dirty over the years have varied greatly:
because it was three in the morning and I had vodka googles on liked a boy;
because I was insanely attracted to someone;
because he had a wonderfully big penis;
because he didn’t speak English;
because he did;
because I was happy;
because I was sad;
because I wasn’t thinking straight;
because I was;
because it felt good;
because it felt bad;
because I could.
Much has been made recently on blogs and in dating books about first date sex and what it means. And what it says about a woman. And what men think about it.
And yes, there are a lot of arguments made – often times by women interestingly enough- that if a woman is sexually confident, or has slept with a lot of men, that she is somehow faking a bravado about sex.
I think there are arguments for both sides and I’m the first to admit that I have, on occasion, had sex for the wrong reasons. And sometimes I’ve been emotionally disconnected and claimed it didn’t mean anything when it did. Or that it did mean something when it didn’t.
But trying to play by a set of rules, like First-Date-No-Sex or Be-Coy-To-Get-Your-Man or Keep-It-Wrapped-Up-for-90 Days? Well, that’s not necessarily the answer either.
Sex comes down to being honest with yourself first and foremost, and trusting your instincts. Some people can have incredibly meaningful sex with someone they met an hour ago. Others only have that with someone they’ve been emotionally intimate with for a long time.
(Aside: Just like some people like to get their freak on and others don’t, it’s all about what’s right for you)
So, what has this all got to do with The Red Book you ask? Well, it argues that the divine (whatever your interpretation of that may be) is just about everywhere including, indeed especially, in the bedroom.
“There is plenty of fascinating scientific evidence that our physical biology supports and even encourages our divinity and also that sexual feelings might be more solidly linked to the divine than we realize”.
Don’t you love that?
It also hypothesizes that “the more sexually aware you are, the higher your potential for divine connection”. (pp. 147 & 148)
So, that’s what I’m trying to be. More aware. Which, come to think of it, applies to pretty much just about everything in life.
I do believe that the universe wants us to fuck our brains out (a notion that The Red Book fully supports) but only if you treat it right. I mean think about it. When you are connecting deeply with someone else and are in the rompy-pompy moment and you see stars and the room starts spinning like crazy? Well, there has to be something in all that.
Wishing you all divine times.
XKB
I have decided to start KB’s Friday Faves page. You know, since I’ve fallen off the dating wagon (I hate you Match.com. Always have, always will), I need to write about SOMETHING.
And I do have a lot of favourite things so I figured why not make it a regular thing.
(Aside: It is also a sign of my life right now that I am writing Friday Faves on a Monday. Don’t ask).
So, here – in no particular order – are this week’s picks.
1. Air Conditioners
Truly a gift from the gods. After melting in 40 degree heat (yowzr!) and wondering if death by heat asphyxiation was possible (it is), I finally went out and procured an A/C on Friday.
By 8-30 on Saturday morning it was installed and ON and I tell you, it is one of the most life changing things I have EVER done.
Probably second only to moving to NYC.
2. Random Acts of Kindness by Ali M
Of course, I am a little biased because she is one of my best friends but this lady puts the A in amazing. She’s been practicing random acts of kindness every day for the past 29 days, and it’s all to benefit the Colline Foundation in Haiti.
On August 9th she’s going to Haiti and, with the money raised, is putting on an event for the hard hit community of Leogane. Please spread the love people and remember: $10 goes a long way!
3. Batiste Dry Shampoo
Can dry shampoo be life changing? I think so.
4. Paul the Octopus Oracle
Born in England but living in Germany, Paul is an uber octopus if ever there was one. He has endured death threats and near paella experiences, but his World Cup predications have been flawless. He even has his own Wiki page. Respect.
5. RudeChix.Com
I’m of an age now where I have friends with babies. It’s just how it is, but I’m really crappy at giving baby gifts. Like, really crappy. So I decided to stick to what I know: fashion. And bought the sickest, hottest little baba tees ever. Rudechix are T-shirts for cool chix, kids and babies with attitude. Now that’s baby shopping I can get behind.
6. Manuel Neuer
Germany’s goalkeeper. 6 foot 4. 24 years old. Blonde and blue eyed. I’ve already stalked him on Twitter. Need I say more?
So that’s it. KB’s top Friday Faves on a Monday night. I promise I will be getting back to dating and writing soon. You know, now that I have A/C and am no longer distracted by 24 year German goalkeepers.
XKB
Oh, oh, oh. Wherever has the time gone?
June has passed by in what feels like the blink of an eye and I have seriously dropped the blogging ball, which is never a good thing.
I am writing this as I sit at the airport waiting to board a plane to Dallas; a plane that should’ve left a gazillion hours ago. At least the delay is giving me time – finally! – to write this blog post.
The thing is, it’s summer in New York which means endless flirty and fun things to do; parties, BBQ’s, picnics, rooftop bars. And to top it all off the Soccer World Cup is finally here which makes me want to pee my pants with excitement.
So far this year’s tournament has been nail bitingly good and almost as drama filled as a Colombian telenovela.
I mean, for starters there’s the French who get the prize for the biggest scandal so far and exited the tournament tout de suite under a cloud of shame. Indeed, their conduct at this year’s World Cup has been deemed le` disgrace
(Aside: And you thought it was just about a bunch of men kicking a ball around?)
Then there are the English, whose lackluster performance had England fans booing them off the field. And Slovakia beats Italy – the reigning champions – and boots them out of the tournament. Holy crap!
Didier Drogba may have stopped a war in Cote D’Ivoire, but he couldn’t stop Brazil. And who knew Kiwis could play soccer and that Uruguayans are so blonde haired and blue eyed?
(Aside: Forlan makes me swoon even while beating the bejesus out of my country).
Serbia caused an upset by beating Germany. Germany in turn annihilates Tim Cahill and the boys who are dubbed the ‘Shockeroos’ and vilified in the Australian media, but then the ‘Shockeroos’ blow everyone away by beating Serbia.
Go figure.
South Africa also came back in a spectacular fashion after aforementioned beating at the hands of Uruguay. And just when everyone had given up on Bafana Bafana, they go and play a stellar last game against the French.
Sadly, it was not enough to get them through to the next round but it doesn’t matter; they made a nation proud.
And that right there is the beauty of the World Cup. You just never know. One minute your team is down, the next they’re up. And just like in life, never-ever rest on your laurels or write the underdog off.
Sure, it’s about skill and athleticism but it’s also about attitude, mental preparedness, synergy and energy. It’s about playing with heart, and not giving up.
Again, just like in life.
The airport was all a buzz today about the USA and their stunning last minute goal against Algeria. I may want to date/ marry your men America and live here until I get old, but I just can’t get behind your soccer team. Sorry. That being said, I like how non-soccer watching Americans are getting into it.
(Aside: This one for Africa: Ghana better kick some USA butt on Saturday)
Of course, maybe I just like watching 22 beefcakes run up and down a field for one and half hours. I mean that much testosterone and manliness does things to a girl. Whatever it is, it’s thrilling stuff.
XKB
