Sometimes a reader of my blog is so enthousiastic to suggest we’ll meet whenever she is in my neck of the woods. I find that very sweet. And at the same time a bit scary. You see, you (readers) know a lot about me. I share my experiences, thoughts, bloopers, face with no make-up, friends, husband and, of course, many outfits. I, on the other hand, know nothing at all about you. Can you imagine that meeting a total stranger makes me a bit nervous? On the other hand, if somebody likes my blog and the things I share, we must have something in common, right? So whenever I can, I will meet that interested person.
Today I will give you a further insight in little old me. I have read “10 things you don’t know about me” on other blogs and always found it a good read. Hope you like mine equally.
I have included some photos of way back when. The photo above is taken when I featured “the yellow skirt in the Rijksmuseum“. The coat is Weekend Max Mara.
I am very, very impatient. When I was a young girl and my parents promised me to redecorate my room, I wanted to go to the shop and pick out paint and wallpaper THAT VERY AFTERNOON. Not tomorrow, not next week, no, NOW ! Which never happened. Of course I pleaded and nagged, but not for very long as my parents were very good in their upbringing. Nagging and coercing were not allowed. I had to shut up. To this day I still have the patience of an ant.
I nag, something I am not proud of. But I do nag. Poor Ron (husband). I nag like this: “Why is it always such a mess in the house? Hadn’t we agreed to vacuum every day? Why am I always the one who…. etc etc.” It doesn’t work. It only gives friction, arguments and distress. Why do I not stop nagging? So very difficult. Is this a female thing? Mom, did I get this from you? Or do I only have myself to blame? The latter of course. You cannot blame everything on your parents. Sorry mom (photo below).
I had the best upbringing a person could ever want. My parents were very loving but not over-protective (which a lot of today’s parents are). They were fair, honest, gave us quality time but also enough freedom to roam on our own. They also taught me many wise things which helped me through my entire life. Things like: “Treat everybody the same way, have respect and say please and thank you to everyone. By the same token, people should treat you that way too, don’t settle for less.” Which resulted in me treating everybody the same, regardless of rank, title, job or wealth.
As a family we played games (I have a brother who is 6 years older). Monopoly was a terrific game. Lasted all night, with lots of laughter, outcries and accusations. Accusations because my brother used to hide his money, playing pitiful. After we were “less businesslike” with him as we ought to have been, he would triumphantly produce his money and start buying hotels.
Everybody is equal
Don’t get me started on things like race, gender, sexual preferences etc etc. Honestly the intolerance of so many people is unbelievable. We are all the same. Treat everybody the same. I better not elaborate on this subject or it will become a rant. But if you discriminate in any way when I am around, be prepared for my verbal attack.
What you cannot see in the photo below is my directness. You already know about me always being very direct, don’t you?
Yep, spiders and me are no friends. My arachnophobia got out of hand when I was about 35. If a teeny weeny spider would let himself down from my rear view mirror in the car, I would hit the break and jump out of the car. Even on the highway. Not a clever thing to do. So I went to see a psychologist once a week for nine months. There is no easy fix for something which has gone wrong for 35 years. Ron used to find me the spiders for the therapy. Tiny ones to start with, gradually getting bigger in size. I agreed to the last session in which I had to let that spider walk across the back of my hand. Without pulling my hand away. Three times. The room was not sound proof. If there was anybody in the waiting room, they would have fled as I screamed my head off. But did not pull my hand away.
I still am the one in our house who has to remove spiders and put them outside. Because, if I give in to fear again and let Ron do this, my fear will grow again. Everytime I overcome my fear, catch the spider and put it outside I win and my fear will become less. The therapy in a nutshell. I hardly ever kill a spider. I think it is wrong that beings who frighten me, need to die for that reason. No photo. Obviously.
I am very sensitive to suffering. I cannot see it or hear about it without feeling sick. I will carry a story about mistreatment with me my whole life. If I read a headline in the paper about physical abuse of a child or an animal (especially an animal) I envision it immediately. I see the picture and I will see that picture for the rest of my life. Which means I do not read the papers anymore. I just cannot take it. I listen to the news on the radio and even then I sometimes have to be quick to turn it off. Cannot handle the smallest thing in this area, no movies either.
You should see (and hear) me when the cat brings home a frog, a bird, a mouse or a rat and the animal is still alive and screaming. I go berserk. I will scream at the top of my longs: RON, RON COME AND SAVE THIS ANIMAL, while shaking all over. He has to do it, I am worthless in a situation like that. Nothing should suffer, not even a spider.
Below a photo of me with short hair when Charlie was a few weeks old (2006). I was still having red gel nails which I loved. Alas, no more because of threat of staphylococci infection (long boring story).
I am a very angry person. Or better said, there is a lot of anger in me. About apps and computers when they don’t work, but especially about injustice. Difficult thing is that I find a lot of things injust. Which means I get angry a lot. And you’d notice! It might be better than indifference but it is tiring and angry words never get the desired results. Quite the contrary. I wish there was less anger in me. Cannot find a photo of me in anger. Thank God.
Nothing as nice as laughing. As much as I can. I laugh very often, very loud and people say very infectious. A good joke? Please tell me. A funny story or situation? Yes please. Laughter is something I seek, is something I share, is something I love to give.
In the photo below we were on holiday in France and I had put on the wedding dress of the owner (a size smaller). I went into the private restaurant, dressed like the bride from the seventies to “convince” Ron it was time he proposed haha.
This is perhaps something you do know. I love Ron. We are together for 30 years now. I met him when I was 34 and had already given up on a relationship. Before him I hadn’t had any long relationships. A week, a day, two months utmost. Ron was my colleague at the advertising agency and I already knew him for a year. As he was married, I never even considered him as a candidate. I have never had married guys as boyfriend, because that only brings sorrow. Then he got divorced and we became friends. One day I noticed a change in our relationship and wanted to bow out. He thought: “Rats, she is escaping me” and suddenly kissed me. Flowers, fireworks, music and a guy with wings and an arrow aiming at my heart. From that moment on I was deeply in love and it never changed.
Ron had a daughter who was almost 3 when we got together: Nicky. I hoped we would bond and have a loving relationship while she grew up. Unfortunately that didn’t happen. I won’t go into details why it didn’t work, but it was very stressful for the three of us. Not the easiest period of our lives (understatement of the year). To my utter joy this changed 180 degrees when she was a grown-up. Never expected it to, but we now get along so well. We laugh together, shop together, go out together and celebrate Christmas together. That pleases me so much. Life is a funny thing. Photo below: Ron deliberately put on his clogs.
You know me a little better now.
PS after reading this post Ron said he knew a few more things you don’t know about me. I told him 10 was enough 😇😎.