Spruce up your nest

tumblr_mvq68upgbf1smkqovo1_500{ originally posted 2015 }

A few weeks back I read that men were much more capable of relaxing than women:
They could ignore the mess and everything that needed to be done in housekeeping, and go fishing. Read the paper. Or watch porn.

Well actually I made that last one up, but you get the idea.
Men are surprisingly easy going creatures in domestic areas. To some degree they all remind me of The Dude, from The Big Lebowski.
Men have the unprecedented ability to prioritize and don’t sweat the small stuff. Which makes them born ready to rule empires, acquire Guru status or develop a cure to overcome death.
It is also what makes them disastrous to live with.
It’s not that I don’t love men, I adore them, especially the rough type like The Dude can make my knees melt and my defenses vaporize at the sight of all that laid- backness. 
But I wouldn’t want to live with one. And that’s coming from someone who would love daily sex, and doesn’t mind a guy watching porn. I have a caring nature and make soup when someone is ill and I m great with relationships.
But despite all these nurturing traits there is one thing I can’t stand: clutter.
In a former life, I lived with my partner and I remembered a conversation about a set of tools, an overflowing toolbox and an extension cable that were neatly stacked to the hallway wall.
After a week I said:
“Listen, I want to put them away for you. But where do they belong? In the shed, or in the closet?”
Both places were already high-jacked by his tools and spare parts, but I didn’t say that.
He answered:
”Pumpkin, if I tell you I have no idea, does that help in any way?”
That’s another reason I love men: they have the best sense of humor.
Like most stranded relationships, there were multiple reasons why we eventually broke up. But it didn’t help that I felt his clutter monster was growing stronger every day. And that I had no idea how to fight it.
His new girlfriend did, so that story ended well for all parties. And I started living for myself, and finally, The Big Clearing began.
I don’t consider myself a minimalist. Nor do I have that Marie Kondo thing nailed down to the last box with cords and computer appliances I never use.
I have spare pillows for on my couch, spare fleece blankets for over the couch, a single duvet including covers that I use as an extra for in winter or when I have a snoring Lebowski in my bed and prefer to sleep on the couch.
And I have a whole guest set incl two pillows, that I exclusively use that one night a year I have a friend over.
So I cannot claim mastership over the Marie Kondo method.
But I do understand why (most) women cannot relax unless the house is done, and why we flee from a guy’s clutter monster. Because having a clean and decluttered house is our key to happiness.
There have been days when I didn’t feel good, and this is something I discovered years ago, but then when I cleaned and cleared my house, it was done. I felt better. On moments like that I feel I should have it in ink on my forearm, so that I never forget:
Wait! Before you do anything to solve your problems, clean your house.
99% chance the bad feeling you had, is gone.
Last Sunday I was at a birthday party and suddenly the most peculiar thing happened.
Two of us had used the Marie Kondo method, and we explained it by folding a few children’s clothes to illustrate how it worked.
The third woman then got so inspired, that without buying the book of Marie Kondo, she dived into her closets that same day, and started clearing out. She sent pictures to the host of the party, to thank her for the inspiration. It was so obvious that she had found tremendous joy in this clearing out of her house, and that she would make the house a nicer, more joyful place to live for everybody.
Judging from the stories I hear from others, even men will give in the moment they see their wife’s side of the closet so neatly vertically stacked and stored. But they need to get a visual first.
Marie Kondo urges you to throw everything away that doesn’t spark joy. So start with what do you want to keep?  It works best if you have an idea what you want your house to look like. Or what kind of house your future self would have.
On the outside it may seem that your house is not significant. But for a lot of us, our house represents our world within. And that’s what you’re changing:
By beautifying the world around you, you change the world within.
And that ain’t no small thing.

An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

Spruce up your nest will be published in the first English book under my real name:

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What would Angelina Jolie do?

2005-x80173310554064484_4{ originally posted 2015 }

I was never more inspired by a celebrity, then the years when Angelina Jolie was a single mom to her newly adopted son Maddox.
She had applied for the adoption together with her then-husband, but before it came through the two separated.
“We changed overnight,” she said.
Although in some interviews she admits the thought of becoming a mother simply gave her a whole new perspective on things. A perspective where the man you share knife games and tattoos with might not make the ideal parent.

“Once Maddox came into my life, I knew I would never be destructive again.”
She was so worried about her son, that she took him in a baby seat to the bathroom with her when she indulged in a taking a miniature- shower.

April 19, 2005

April 19, 2005

Early 2005, still officially single but already suspected of being somewhat involved with Brad Pitt, she talks to Vanity Fair about how her life looks.
She basically still sleeps and breaths with Maddox, but has acquired two lovers with whom she occasionally has sex in hotels (one at the time, although Vanity Fair does not press for details).
The lovers are not invited to see her son.

“But I know if I ever saw a man be great with my child, then that would be it for me.”
After giving the interview and before the print, a photo with Brad Pitt and her son, appeared. And my infatuation for her disappeared. My idol had been the single independent woman who took full responsibility as a parent and arranged her sex life too. Luckily for me: that Angelina never fails to inspires me (more to that later), even though the real Angelina transcended to a whole new level, and started to inspire the rest of the world.
For the past year my life has been much like that of the early single Jolie; it revolves around my cats, in particular the bigger one which has been non-stop sick since June last year. And just like with humans, sickness starts with thinking it will be okay, progresses to what-the-fuck is this, falls back to fatalism, spirals back up at the first hopeful sign.
And then it starts all over again.
I ve currently just come out of the latest cycle, where I nearly killed my cat with two back-to-back med courses that were supposed to save his life. I gave it up and stopped the second one after five days.
Now I focus on restoring his original health level.
So for a year I’ve been from home 4-5 hours max.
Since six months I can’t solve this by letting anybody else take care of them.
Since four weeks my clothes have been dirty from force feeding, my skin scratched from VET visits and I probably look grey with worry.
But every time I think I can’t go on any longer, or when I m afraid I ll accidentally choke him with the meds, or when I have to take him to the VET, I invoke my inner Angelina Jolie…
I can feel my thighs shrink to a size that does not allow for pizza Nutella.
My teeth get round and smooth, my lips grow to Hollywood stardom and I wear imaginary eyeliner and mascara (sometimes I put on real one, to make sure it works).
My hands somehow seem more elegant, and my voice is steady and motherly, when I tell him everything will be fine and that mommy knows best.
My cat is being taken care of by Angelina Jolie throughout the most difficult year of his life.
And how this Angelina manages to hold up, and how she spends her me-time?
Oooooh…. you’ll figure it out 

An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

What would Angelina Jolie do? will be published in the first English book under my real name:

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Madonna will always love Sean

right: 2013

right: 2013

{ originally published in 2015 }

Madonna started it herself, breathing life into the whole myth of her and Sean Penn coming back together again.
Or at least toying with the thought.
Or toying with him.
Maybe the birthday tweet in which she commemorated her own birthday (16 August, also their wedding day) and his birthday (August 17) was just her way of saying:
“Hey you! You’re single again! What the f*?! is taking you so long?”
Because in recent years he had truly been testing her patience.
Or lack of it.

It was early 1985 when Madonna and Sean had their meet cute at the set of Material Girl.
At 24, Penn was already an acclaimed actor and a notorious hand-full, and Madonna was a beginning star.

The Material Girl video made no secret what her ambition was.
It had people admire her with lines as:
“The biggest star in the universe right now as we speak”.
But although those words were prophetic, she had not acquired world fame yet.
Her 1984 album Like a Virgin was out, but it wouldn’t be until they added Get Into the Groove, in the re-issue from July 1985, that it became a bestseller world wide. 

America knew Madonna from her gyrating performance in wedding dress at the first ever MTV video movie awards, an appearance that was noticed by Sean Penn who immediately took an interest in her. But in Europe we were years from having MTV.
The only Madonna we knew was the mother of Jesus, but she would have to make way soon.

Madonna and Sean marry on her 27th birthday. The marriage was as passionate as it was toxic, with him switching between being the best lover she ever had, and being a terrifying, abusive alcoholic. The physical violence climaxed December 1988. She left. It was over.
Or was it?

Over the years the two kept in touch, from when she was dating Warren Beatty, to when she had her baby Lourdes in 1996 and invited Sean to be present during the delivery.
Very curious how he sold that to his then-wife Robin Wright Penn.
And if he accepted.
In more recent years there has been a whole series of meet, greets, and flirtations going back and forth. There was the photo for their birthdays this year, but also
 last year, when she dressed her son up as a character Sean Penn played.
That’s two years in a row Madonna did not let the birthdays/ wedding date go by unnoticed.
He divorced Wright in 2010, and attended Madonna’s concert October 2012.
They probably had to rebuild the Los Angeles Staples Center after putting out the fire the two caused.
And in 2013 things got into a higher gear:

In September he attended her Secret Project Revolution.
In November he and Madonna and her son Rocco hung out in Haiti, touring his charity projects.
In December 2013 Sean Penn announced his relationship to Charlize Theron.
Excuse me?
After three months of him and Madonna continuously sharing public displays of affection, he’s with Theron? You re kidding right?

I can only imagine how p*ssed off she must have been over that one. But thankfully to all of us who like a good story: Charlize Theron ended things a few months ago. Penn is back on the market. And we’re all praying this time he’ll make the right choice.
With chances of a reunion soaring, what could be the reason Madonna and Penn act like a latter-day Taylor and Burton?
First, there is the obvious: he looks like her father.
Okay, that was a cheap one, but stuff like that matters!
With her father too, she had a troubled relationship. Madonna was 5 when her mother died, and after that she competed her siblings to get attention of their father. This was the first relationship she had with a man.

No wonder she didn’t shy away at the first sign of difficulty with Sean.
But there is another reason I think she will always love Sean: He was the only one who treated her as an equal. And that’s why he was so violent. Because he wanted her down, he wanted to control her.
Something no one in their right mind has ever tried since.
And thirty years after their marriage date, and probably thirty young, old and versatile lovers later, Madonna will see that Sean was the only one that stuck. That kept a flame burning and the only one who ever tried to defy her.
And this time?
She’s ready.

An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

Madonna will always love Sean will be published in the first English book under my real name:

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Big Magic

images-1{ originally published 2015 }

“I firmly believe that we all need to find something to do in our lives that stops us from eating the couch” 

Elizabeth Gilbert in Big Magic p.172

A few years ago, I gave a book called Parenting illustrated with crappy pictures to a friend. It was so appealing yet I couldn’t put my finger on it. Why was I giving this (in all honesty- hilariously funny book) instead of something eh…well, a little more polished.
Something that would lift a young mother out of her daily grind.
But now I know why: because those crappy pictures were an authentic expression. And the fact that they were not polished, and that she was obviously clueless how to use a computer to draw, made it all the more endearing. It was her son who had told her they were “pretty crappy”. So this was book written by a woman so desperate to create, that she defied the judgement of her 4 year old.
She still did it anyway.
Elizabeth Gilbert published a book last week:
Big Magic: creative living beyond fear
When we say “creative living” we obviously think of crafting things, writing things, musicianing things and maybe dancing things.
But behold!

This is a narrow definition of creativity. Liz gives two inspiring examples of two women living creative lives.
One is a woman who picked up ice-skating in her forties. Three times a week, before work she would go to the track and skate with a coach, or alone. She was making something of herself, and of her life, through ice skating!
Another woman started studying Mesopotamia (devour books, visit archaeological sites, talk to experts) in her 80’s, and now she’s in her 90’s and people visit her as an expert on Mesopotamia.
And there are a lot of people who find their creativity in doing yoga every morning, in running, in travelling: the possibilities are endless. But the need, Liz says, is universal.  Liz truly believes that we all have this force within us, and describes what will happen if you don’t do anything with it.
creative mind (and remember- that is most likely any human mind) is like having a border collie for a pet:
You need to keep it busy or else it will cause you an outrageous amount of trouble.
Like eating the couch, digging a  hole in the living room floor, or biting the mailman.
Unless you spend sufficient time with your border collie mind, creating something, studying something, or taking an AM 10 mile run, your mind will cause havoc. It will turn aggressive and start to destroy things.

First of all your own inner-peace.
I m still amazed how easily my mind can find one little tear, one tiny insecurity, only to then grab it, yank it, and keep yanking and pulling it until my  inner-peace, self-worth and general sense of well-being are effectively torn to bits!
But if I see my mind as this highly energetic dog, that just needs to be entertained, I understand why it starts to behave badly.
And how to prevent it.
If you work on a routine where your creative mind, your inner border collie, gets a good work-out, just see what a lovely pet it will make! 

An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living

Big Magic will be published in the first English book under my real name:

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My advice on making babies

BW-1425CosLately I ve been witness to several women who may remain childless, not because they want to get the most out of their sex life slash love life slash soap opera worthy life – as I do, although “porn movie worthy life” would probably be a more accurate description – but because they cannot find the right man.

Some will say it as simple as that:
I want children but I can’t find the right man
Some will keep it up in the air:
I would like to have children if the right man comes along
And with some the man is a phantom, who-shall-not-be-named:
*soft sigh*
“Oh well, I would just looove to have children too.”
*soft sigh again*

What I have learned in all those years of being single, in order to have the most interesting, well-documented life I could possibly imagine, is the stubborn persistence of what I call: 
The Cinderella Complex
It’s the idea that a man will make your life complete. 
Now we’re all familiar with the Cinderella from the fairy tale, who was saved from child labor and slavery by her prince, and with the girls who in the 50s and 60s married a nice boy of the same religion or political color, for the purpose of having babies and living happily ever after.
I think we can all agree fairy tale characters are not really true:
Cinderella was never a real person.
And go ask around how that happily ever after turned out for those women.

My guess is that most of the women of that post war generation would have killed to have all the opportunities young women nowadays have.
To be educated, to have access to housing, to be able to love freely.
And to not be frowned upon if you have “a messy life”.
There is a book even, an American one “In praise of messy lives”, to celebrate the way people live together, much more dynamically than the nuclear family of the 20th century.
When the author visited the Netherlands she was amazed that we already had messy lives that we praised and everyone accepted! I don’t think her book became a bestseller here. But despite our liberal way of thinking, I still find evidence of the ancient Cinderella complex everywhere.
To begin with, in my own mind:
For years I thought learning to enjoy sex fully, to face my demons, grow stronger mentally, etcetera, a GUY was required.
Not just any guy but someone caring, understanding, wise, and really really sexy and good looking of course. He would save me from all my sexual fears and heal all my mental wounds and in his skillful hands I would find lots of pleasure and be sculpted into a sex goddess.
Okay, no pressure! ;)

Because it was “merely” a sexual path I aspired, it took me some time to realize I had just another version of the Cinderella complex. I was NOT taking responsibility for my own needs and wants! I was waiting for someone else to save me, my own sexual prince.
I could forgive myself the mistake, but couldn’t help but think what if I had known this 8 years ago when I became single? Before the heartache and most of all the disappointment that he was never a prince?
I would have been able to enjoy the men for who they were, and the situation for what it was. And deal with my own mental mess, instead of expecting him to fix it or be there for me.

I’m not going to describe all the wonderful ways in which you, lovely gorgeous woman who would make a terrific and responsible mother, can organize your life, and commit yourself to your desire to become a mother. 
But if I would hear someone say: 
I want to have a great lover but I can’t find the right man.
I would like to do a whole sexual bucket list if the right man came along.
*soft sigh*
“Oh well, I would just looove to have a great sex life”
*soft sigh again*

I would ask: What’s keeping you?


My advice on making babies will be published in my new book:
Big Mistress
confessions from the other woman

To read new posts and updates follow Twitter;
or subscribe to my diary HERE 

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Greetings from a powerful witch

galadriel_green_3Do you know how ninety-nine percent of women in relationships,
women who ever had a relationship,
or women who consider to maybe one day get into a relationship,
respond to my presence?
Just in general terms, give it a go.
And this could be either how they respond to my presence in real life, but it could also very well mean how they instinctively respond the moment they hear I exist.
Or even how  someone like me, in theory, could exist.
Somewhere, on any of the seven continents or in any the seven seas.
Here’s a hint.
Just imagine you have children and a convicted child molester becomes your new neighbor.
That’s it.
That’s the response.
And you know what?
It didn’t even start when I became a secret mistress!
A situation I accidentally gotten myself into, at a time when I was seriously in love and absolutely certain he’d choose for me.
And then he never did.
I’m glad he didn’t, but that’s a story for another day.
But now that I m here I can see that being a mistress fits me, with my love for secrecy and rebellion.
It certainly has its challenges, but being judged by other women is something I’ve had to deal with all my life.
It didn’t start when I became a mistress.
My ex of fourteen years had to break all ties with me, before his new girlfriend moved in with him.
The new girlfriend of an ex-boyfriend started stalking me, and calling me in the middle of the night.
Another ex-boyfriend called me and asked me to lie to his new girlfriend when our relationship had ended. When at the time he had never bothered to tell me that he had started seeing someone else, and that we were now having a secret affair.
But it’s not just a new girlfriend thing.
If I talk to men decades older than me at a party, their wives drag them away from me.
And the men let themselves be dragged, let’s be honest.
I once saw my lover charm the most beautiful woman in a bar practically out of her pants, and it made me want him even more. I love a man out in the field!
So for me personally?
The less involved a man would be with other women, the bigger our problem would be.
But other women seem to think that the less involved their beau is with other women, the better.
The reason I am currently so aware of this is because I was about to start dating someone new. It’s nothing sexual, I m happy with my secret lover.
It’s just that I have a male circle of friends, and I like the company of men.
And from that perspective, I asked a guy out on a date.
He said yes, but couldn’t schedule within 48 hours, which is my preferred time window for these things.
But he did immediately suggested one week later.
I considered that a good sign, and decided to make an exception. Even though he wanted to see me on a weekday that I don’t easily give away because it seems to be my lover’s preferred day to invite me over.
So therefor this friendship date with this new man, could cost me a night of hot steamy sex.
But I said yes, next week is fine.
Then it happened!
I could just feel him not wanting to see me in a public bar. He brought it casually, and quite suave referring back to something I said I wanted to do. But I could definitely feel the pull there… in his direction.
Yet I insisted on meeting in a public place.
It wasn’t just because of the security risks of going somewhere I wasn’t familiar;
Nor about the risk of giving off the “wrong signal”, meeting him in a less casual setting.
Those things could have been covered in another way.
But I ve promised myself a long time ago, I would always make a point of seeing someone in public. AND in the town where he lived.

His ability to come up with a cover (f.e. that I m someone he does business with), or that he stands up for himself at home (and says he’s free to go out for coffee with whomever he wants), is a test of his worthiness.
I chose to ignore his hints, and in a friendly yet decisive manner I brought our messages back to date, time and a public place. Which he seemed to get along with until then suddenly the final message where I suggested a “where” stayed unanswered.
So then when the date came, a week later, I was pretty curious if I would still hear from him. When I didn’t, I texted him, ninety minutes before our date. Lighthearted, carefree.
He responded by calling me with vague excuses and even an accusation wh
y I had not texted him sooner. I gave him a strike three, you’re out.
One – trying to pull me into a secluded environment on our first date.
Two – not answering the final message the week before.
Three – forgetting our date
And four – God! I even gave him FOUR chances?! – making that my fault by accusing me.
Despite his firm assurance that he would contact me for another date, and my own friendly Oscar worthy performance of being nice; all I thought was:
I will never date any man who is ashamed of me, or who forgets we have a date, or who doesn’t even have the decency to call it off.
So although I didn’t know exactly why he had stood me up, I had seen the first signs of his reluctance the week before. I never expected to get more clarity, until, oh hail Facebook, a post caught my eye.
Merely hours before I texted him if we were still on, he and a woman had made their relationship public on Facebook.
I know EXACTLY what happened!
week 1.
The day I invited him on a date.
He and his now girlfriend were dating but being the player that he is, he was stalling it. He wasn’t committing, and neither was she. She was probably playing hard to get, or telling her girlfriends she didn’t know if he would be serious relationship material, a good father to their future children, and so on… She pretended she wasn’t full-on interested. But she was losing because it was clear that he too, was not eager to take their dating to the next level.
I called and asked him out.
He knew that she wouldn’t like it if he still saw other women but also, technically, they were not together yet. They had not discussed exclusivity, nor the subtleties of platonic friendships… What was allowed and what wasn’t?
They had both played it safe by beating around the bush and he was about to use the opportunities that offered.
He said yes to seeing me.
But because he preferred us seeing each other not to cost him anything, he wanted to see me at a low risk location. Which I refused and he became less enthusiastic (hence the not answering the last message) but he didn’t cancel it either.
week 2.
The day of the date
In the seven days that passed, she finds out, or he mentions that he’s going on a platonic date with me. She totally flips into “LIKE HELL YOU RE NOT” modus, forgetting all her doubts about him, and becomes obsessed with the idea that at ALL cost she must stop this from happening, and that he must choose for her immediately.
It is clear that the only sign she’ll accept as a sign of his commitment to her, is THE modern day sign of a serious relationship:
The dreaded Facebook status.

It was an example of all those relationships in which my presence plays an important role, even though I m not there. The Idea Of Me appears, and pretty loosely tied arrangements are locked in overnight. Marriages which have been sleeping for years, are suddenly wide awake.
Partners are forced to think about how much their relationship is worth to them.
And at the risk of losing it forever if they make the wrong choice.
It is difficult not to get drunk with power on all that fear. As if I was a powerful witch!
I could see myself as strong as Galadriel in Lord of the Rings:
Instead of a Dark Lord, you would have a queen, not dark but beautiful and terrible as the dawn! Tempestuous as the sea, and stronger than the foundations of the earth!
All shall love me and despair!
Just think of all the relationships that went next level because of me. All the couples that married because I galvanized their relationship, at a critical stage.
Even the marriages that were getting stale, and that suddenly turned into exciting things that could go either way!
All because of the high pressure pot of women forcing their man to choose for them.
And to forever turn their backs on me.

You’re welcome.

An unexamined life is not worth living

Greetings from a powerful witch will be published in my new book:
Big Mistress
confessions from the other woman

To read new posts and updates follow Twitter;
or subscribe to my diary HERE 

NEW  connect on Linkedin

Gives a 25% discount on all prices
Select your store f.e. Nederland or United States
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De Candystop, hele boek

candystop cover screenshot

Waar de Nederlandse literatuur tot stilstand komt door een Marokkaanse lekkernij.

Getergd door een rits onduidelijke medische klachten, besluit Lauren geen suiker meer te eten, geen Chardonnay meer te nemen, en geen latte macchiato’s meer te drinken. Na een paar weken is ze zo apathisch dat ze zelfs vergeet te masturberen. Tot een jonge Marokkaanse god op tv verschijnt die tegen Lauren zegt; “LauRRRen! WakkeRRR woRRRden! Ik ben ook schRRRijveRRR en ik heb ook een leuk leven!” Dat is zo. Sam doet de vier s’en. Hij schrijft, hij sport, hij sekst en hij slaapt. Ineens weet Lauren nog steeds niet waar het naartoe moet met haar leven, maar ze is wel klaarwakker. Zeker als ze erachter komt, dat Sam binnen een week een optreden geeft bij haar om de hoek. Sam doet haar denken aan een verboden relatie met haar leerling, iets waar ze gemengde gevoelens over heeft. Sam wil die best met haar onderzoeken, maar hij vraag een prijs…

1. De koek is op
2. Dank je de koekoek
3. Zoete broodjes bakken
4. ‘t Deeg is lekkerder dan de koek
5. Hard Candy
6. Zuurbal
7. Spekje naar mijn bekje
8. Hard van buiten
9. Fireballs
10. Zout of roe
11. Mon Cheri
13. Zak vol koekjes, speelgoed en prentenboekjes
14. Tough tough dolls

15. Toverbal
16. Rozijntje
17. Het Suikerfeest (slot)

De Candystop
Eerste druk
© 2017
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