I know it sounds like the title of an awful second grade film, but the last few days could really described with the words from the title – there were many Christmas carols (so many, in fact, that they started making me sick); the Christmas party I organised was so loud that the neighbours actually called the coppers (we promised London’s finest that we would turn down the music and they didn’t want to really spoil our fun); and then there was the chaos afterwards – the Mayans were wrong, as the Apocalypse happened in my flat but not on the 21^st but the 25^th of December. Luckily, a cleaning company called Maids of London (follow the link for additional details) worked today so that was the domestic cleaning aspect of the title – I called them, they showed and made it all seem human again. If you could’ve seen it – there was rubbish everywhere, vomit here and there, cigarette buds, empty bottles, broken glasses, plastic cups, alcohol spills and many, many more horrific after-effects making the scene look worse than a crack-house in an American ghetto. Thank goodness I didn’t have to clean it myself, otherwise I wouldn’t have the time to type this – I would still be cleaning and not done even in half.

Yup, the last few days were mighty fine, but they reminded me that not every day is. I mean, come on – why do we have holidays? Can’t every day be a holiday? Is it so hard to live in peace? Apparently, since we’re not doing it. For thousands of years we’ve lived like animals and we still do, even if we bullshit ourselves into believing that this here is “civilisation”. War, terrorism, diseases – where’s the civilisation in that? Being a wage slave to somebody, making money for them and living off their crumbs – that’s civilised? Because in the end, when you think about it, all most of us do our whole lives is serve somebody else. Even the so called “successful” people – stars, brokers, etc. They are people who can be fired and that means they are servants, just like the rest of us. Why do people look up to them I will never know. But in any case they are not different. When you can be fired, when you’re expendable, then you’re a servant. When you can be replaced within days, if not hours, then no matter how big your salary is, you’re still a servant.

But when you think about it further – if you can lose your business, then you’re a servant, as well. Maybe a servant to the economy, but a servant nonetheless. There are very few people in this world who are not servants and they are the ones who control it. Call it what you want but that’s the truth. Interesting what Christmas made me think about.

Don’t throw parties in your own home! Ever! Or if you do, call a cleaning company to clean right after the party. Trust me! Unless you want to end up like me – cleaning for half a day and then realising in the end that you couldn’t deal with a huge stain on your carpet and you have to call a cleaning company anyway. If I had only known, I would’ve called them and not wasted all that time cleaning. But let me tell you the story from the beginning so it’s pretty much clear what the bloody hell I’m talking about.

For a few weeks, I’ve felt a bit lonely, you know – a bit on the downside. I saw mostly the bad things in life. I was depressed and didn’t really like anything or anybody. That’s why I decided to throw a party, just like in the good old days (I know how that sounds from somebody in their twenties but still) and feel better for at least a little while, you know – have some fun, say or do something, get drunk, the sort of stuff teenagers usually do.

So I got to it. I first started sending invitations to make it official. Then, I started the preparations – I cleaned my home, went to the store and bought enough supplies to survive in the Zombie Apocalypse for a month or two, and got enough booze to get even a Scottish rugby team drunk. Since I’m something of a music lunatic and have many, many albums of different singers and groups from different genres, I decided that there was no need to go and buy any more music.

Everything was ready. I was just waiting for the people to start coming. When they did, I got the party going. I’m grateful that I have such cool neighbours, by the way. Not once have they made a problem about the music, our social gatherings or anything else. So, anywho, around midnight the party started going full speed. I had already planned on calling in sick the next day so that wasn’t an issue – I could drink I wanted to. About halfway through the party everything starts becoming a blur. What I can tell you for certain is that it’s a good idea to have people throwing up on your carpets. Not that I had them doing that, but they must’ve assumed I’d be OK with it.  It was a complete bummer because when I woke up, the flat stank so I had to deal with the stench, all the rubbish and vomit – honestly, it was a battlefield. It took me half a day to deal with everything and just when I thought I had it all covered I realised there were nasty stains on my carpet. Great! Now I had to call Aceclean to clean my carpets. I usually use them and as I was booking their carpet cleaning services I got to wondering why I didn’t book them for domestic cleaning in the first place? They would’ve taken care of the party aftermath no problem. Oh, well, never mind that. At least they managed to deal with the nasty stains and that was all that mattered to me.

I've never been such a  tidy  person.I'm honest about it and I absolutely admit it. I actually except the person I am. Not that I'm proud of it but that's what I am. However, don't assume that my home is a mess. At least,earning enough has its benefits (like being able to afford a house maid). She is the one person who puts things in order. Basically, maintains my home in a good condition.

Anyway, I want to tell you about my visit at a close friend's place. We hadn't seen each other in quite a while. So I decided to catch up with her for a couple of days. At first she was happy to see me, so was I. We were thrilled in the beginning but after some time spent together, things weren't so pleasant as I though they would be. Apparently I had to help with the cleaning. My friend considered leaving a guest to do housework as something normal. Can you believe that? She took off with the kids and literally ordered me to clean the house. Sure I had made a bit of a mess. It wasn't just me,though. Most of the damage was there before I even arrived. Despite the fact that I didn't find it quite fair, I couldn't say no,right? I didn't want to be rude(after all,I was just a guest under this roof). Since I don't have much experience in this area,I though I could at least simulate tidying up. Did you think I was really going to do what she said? I hope not.And even if I wanted to do the job properly,I simply couldn't and I still can't.

I gave a lot of thought to the whole process. I started by gathering all the cleaning supplies. Of course, it took me some time to find them (wandering around the house, mostly). When I finally took them out of the cabinet,it was perfect timing because my friend just came back.She actually bought it. Thought I had already began without her. Naturally, none of the chemicals were familiar to me, so I just left them there,as if I was about to use them. Then I instantly hid from her. If she couldn't see me,she would know nothing. That's why I escaped her by constantly being in another room.I ended up in the living room, sticking piles of clothes under the couch. How should I know where to put them!While I was there I also picked up a few papers from the floor. I was trying to be as slow as possible. And let's not forget, it was a must to do a bad job at it in order to make her understand that she can't make people clean. When I got my next orders to take care of the kitchen, I took the vacuum cleaner with me. To be more convincing, I moved a few chairs and put some plates in the sink. Then she finally marched in and told me it was all over.

In the end ,she didn't say anything but I think she got the message loud and clear.

Agnes woke up with an uneasy feeling. She had had a nightmare and hadn’t slept well at all. It was nasty feeling to welcome Monday tired as if you haven’t slept in days. She especially hated the fact that she had to go on and clean people’s houses all day while they get to rest. She frequently felt like a Victorian maid. The only difference was that she cleaned different people’s houses. She felt life was so unfair. Why did some get to do nothing all day and yet have so much money and others would bust their arses from work and yet have nothing. Thinking about this was a really bad day to start the week but what could she do? It was something she had been thinking about for a while and in all honesty, she was right. Life wasn’t fair. It was sad that she couldn’t accept it and yet could do nothing about it, either - she had no education, no wealthy relatives, she had hardly any hope of things changing. Day after day she would go to work and day after day she would feel the unfairness of life. With every bathtub she scrubbed, she felt her mood worsening. With every carpet she washed, she felt her soul darkening. With every house cleaned, she felt a little part of her was dying. What had she done to deserve this? When she was growing up she had dreamt of being in the elite society, she had dreamt of a glamorous life. He had dreamt about life with many secrets and intrigues, where nobody is as they seem. She had dreamt of being recognised. Instead, all the blood in her veins, all the air in her lungs, all of her life force was aimed at serving others. Instead of meeting her prince, love was but a distant light in the dense fog. Nothing was as she wanted it.

Agnes got dressed for work. She felt that with every day she was becoming more depressed and dysphoric. There was nothing in her life to give her strength, to keep her going. She didn’t have all the energy required to change things. She wasn’t young, either. It was hard for a 37-year-old woman to succeed in anything, especially when she failed miserably when she was younger and had no education. Agnes’ dreams were slowly sailing away on a shady boat filled with unkept promises, broken desires and forgotten hope. She would continue working day after day, doing the same thing. She had realised she would probably never find love, it was too late for that. She would never have the life she wanted. She would never bring about the change in her life she so heartedly desired. It was time to go to work, where nobody would care about her hopes and dreams.

Wallace Walker was a good man. You could see it in his eyes, in the way he looked, in his behaviour – everything was screaming it. He was a rather short bloke, bald, with glasses, rather nerdy looking, insecure, and round-shouldered. Like many other good men, however, he made some bad decisions. Apparently, Dr Walker wasn’t familiar with the hospital regulations and more specifically – with the ‘don’t smoke marijuana in your office’ article. Oh, well, one learns from one’s mistakes. Dr Walker was no exception. He would never smoke marijuana in the hospital again. In fact, the only time he would set foot in a hospital again was when he was really sick.

Anyway, this isn’t a story about an endocrinologist who destroyed his career because of the one vice he had. This is a story about a man serving his time in favour of society. Due to the low severity of his ‘crime’ (and the fact that he was a doctor), the judge decided to be lenient and Wallace was sentenced on two weeks of community service. His licence was taken away, of course. After his two weeks of cleaning the filthy streets of London were over, he had to consider what to do. He had savings but they wouldn’t last forever. He was thanking God that his faience had left him – she cost him a fortune. What would he do? His life was over. As he was too cowardly to end it, he would look for other alternatives.

In his first day of probation, he went to the probation office to meet – you guessed it, his probation officer. He introduced himself. The probation officer was completely indifferent. He told him meet with the others from his group. His new crew for the next two weeks was rather interesting. One of the girls, Joan, was on probation for stabbing her boyfriend in the leg (or maybe it was her ex-boyfriend, or maybe her father – Wallace was too scared to pay attention). She was a temperamental, 20-year-old blonde with stunning looks but her many piercings and tattoos were a warning sign that she wasn’t Barbie. ‘What’cha staring at, Uncle Fester?’ – she asked aggressively when she noticed him looking at her. He moved his eyes right away.

Instinctively, he started searching for the probation worker but he was smoking a cigarette far from them, giving them time to get to know each other (or kill each other – they were scum to him he didn’t care). Wallace met another member of his team of failures – this time it was an intimidating young man, about 1,90 and looking like he could smash our good doctor with one hand. He had a tat on his face going all the way up to his short brown hair. ‘How’s it hanging, grandpa?’ Wallace didn’t know what to reply. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to know.

The other two members of ‘Wallace’s band of misfits’ were twins. They must’ve shared the same brain when they were in their mother womb that got separated when they were born, because both of them looked half-intelligent. If you put them next to a monkey you would probably realise the monkey was smarter. Calling those identical idiots stupid was an insult to stupid people. They were just hanging around acting like morons. They were both about 1,80 with brown hairs and brown eyes. There was nothing really memorable about them (except for the stupidity, of course).

The probation officer approached them. ‘Come on, then. Those filthy streets won’t clean themselves.’ ‘Too bad; - the twins shouted in one voice and then started giggling.

‘It’s going to be long two weeks.’ Wallace thought.

I have been waiting for so long to be able to write this down, but it finally is true- The Olympics are finally in London! I don’t know about you, but I really feel so excited! I wanted to go to the Games in Athens, but I was just 15 back then and my parents did not let me by myself and I could not convince them to take me all the way across Europe.

But now I have the perfect conditions to fulfil my dreams and attend at least three or four Olympic events. Aesthetic gymnastics is a must. I guess if I was not a ballet dancer, I would have chosen gymnastics instead. I must have been lucky though, because Britain is not that strong in that field. I have had the chance to watch those amazing Eastern European girls from Russia, Ukraine and Bulgaria- they really make it look like art rather than a sport competition.

And then of course there is tennis. Funny enough, though I live in Wimbledon I have never been keen on tennis. I think this was the first time when I broke my father’s heart- when I told him I just don’t see myself with a racket in my hand. All this changed just a couple of weeks ago when some close friends took me to the final at Wimbledon. I have been to a football match before, but it really doesn’t come close to the tension and emotion of what happened on the court. I have never rooted for an athlete as much as I did for Andy Murray. I wanted him to win so bad, I even broke a fingernail when he lost the third set. I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.

There is something I am really worried about though. The Olympic Games are much more an international event than Wimbledon itself and I expect a lot more tourists to visit the complex. I know enough about the courts and understand how sacred Wimbledon is for all the people involved in tennis, but would the tourist feel the same? Would they keep it as clean and well-ordered as possible? And how will the organizers come up to the immense task of presenting another huge tournament at the same complex in just two weeks?

I do hope my native Wimbledon will present itself in the best light possible. After all we have given the world the sport of tennis, and now it comes back to its birthplace at the biggest event possible! Is this not the perfect case scenario?!
 

We are still in the middle of the summer, but I am not so sure how many of us has manage to rest a bit by taking a vacation somewhere far from home. We all have the same problem – we don’t know how we still manage to keep our eyes open in front of the pc screen and we truly, deeply hate getting up early in the mornings. And be careful, because this dejected state can deteriorate and become a serious depression, which according to some specialists affects more and more people every year. Specialists say that the reason is our stressful everyday life and the incapability of managing our time properly.

If you wonder why everybody seems to be somehow unpleasant this most probably is because of the fact that your mind and body refuse to take the fact that you have to be at work. And there is also a possibility that they have the same problem, so that explains why you may have some problems with the communication.

I don’t have any intentions to tease you, but maybe it is high time to realize that the thing in your hand is not the dreamed cocktail but a file with some documents and you should try coming back to the office territory whether you like it or not. Here are a few tricks that can make you feel better.

Eat regularly and take some vitamins. Doctors have proven that you develop some serious diseases if you don’t do that the way you should. Your body loses its strength and become susceptible to different infections. So grab something to refresh yourself and you will see that you will feel better. Have some fruits and vegetables, but you can also eat some chocolate, which is a great antidepressant and raises the level of endorphin in your blood.

Try not to work too much in Monday and reduce stress. Don’t hurry to get through with all your things. Make a plan for the week and decide which the most urgent tasks are. Otherwise you risk deteriorating the feeling that nothing goes the way it should be.

Make sure you don’t waste your weekends. Try to go out and spend some time in fresh air. Walk in the park or go somewhere else just to be at another place different from home or office. Find a favourite sport to practice while you are out – choose gymnastics, or football, or swimming. You can even go jogging in the park – the most important thing is to do something.

You may think that none of these things are something that you can do just like that without changing your way of life and work. Why don’t you try some of them and share the results? They don’t bite, I promise! And most important – don’t despair, there will come some better days!

Just the other day while I was reading a magazine, I found and read a short article that was telling about something I have never heard of. Maybe everybody thinks that women are the part of the mankind that is,… well, let me put it that way… “cleaner”. And by cleaner, I mean everything – we usually take care of the cleaning of the house, buy all the soaps, shampoos, detergents and cleaning products at home, remind our husbands and children to wash their hands and also got absolutely shocked when seeing a stain on the carpet or some clothes.

Well, despite all this, it actually looks like that bacteria just love women. I say that because I read about a research of some biologists that found out that took samples of the cell phones, personal computers, keyboards and other personal stuff of some representatives of both sexes. And surprisingly, it turns out that on the women’s possessions there are four times more bacteria than the men’s ones.

And the biggest paradox of all is that the scientists explain that with women’s love to cosmetics and their inclination of using hand creams more frequently, and that attracts more microorganisms. However, in the offices, women’s desks are usually more cleaners and tidy than men’s.

For me, there was one more surprise. It was the fact that women’s wallets are also more attractive to bacteria, because of the reasons I wrote above and also because of the fact that men use their wallets less. So, how do you think – is there a certain truth in the research or probably not?

Remember I told you about the great day I had with my niece a week ago? I had to babysit her in the weekend, because her parents went out and the maid from the domestic cleaning company came to do her job. We didn’t feel like going out, so we stayed in the house, but we invented a game of ourselves, which we find amusing.

Actually, it was not a game, but a story-telling, which we both did. I called the story I made out “The Unbelievable Day of Ronnie the Chipmunk”. So, this is it.

…

Ronnie the Chipmunk lived in its hollow on a tree in Wimbledon Park and lived its quiet chipmunk’s life without any intention to interfere with the life of anyone else. And whatever you would think, Ronnie was a chipmunk like no other, because of his particular fondness of cones, which usually ended up with a complete mess in his hollow.

Despite his comely looks, Ronnie the Chipmunk was a real cone-freak and would do anything just to steal a cone or two more. He didn’t care about the mess and the non-cleaned hollow; he just wanted piles of cones surrounding him. And in the end, there was so much dirt and dust in there that he could hardly see the cones under the mess.

…

And here the maid came into the room and asked us if it is convenient to come in and do her job. When I involved a maid into the Chipmunk story, the cleaning woman burst into laughter and said that she hadn’t have such a good time for a long time.

So, as you see, my aunt-and-niece experiences become more and more promising. And the most important thing, after all, is that we have a lot of fun together.

I don’t think I have mentioned my sister before, so maybe it is time to give some more info about us two. I have an older sister, Cassie, who is 28 years old, married and has an adorable little daughter, named Elisabeth. On Sunday I decided to let my sister and her husband spend some time alone, so I suggested them to take the child for a walk. I checked some nice places to take a child to and after finishing my research, I had a plan, which included a great surprise to my little niece.

So, I went to my sister’s house early yesterday morning, helped Cassie to dress Elisabeth up and make some breakfast and then walked out with the child. We took the train at the railway station and went first to the Wimbledon Park, where we first walked around the lakes and the ponds. We visited the Ornamental Gardens and then we sat for a little while in the café nearby where I bought her an ice-cream. Then we had lunch in a small restaurant and I took my niece at the Wimbledon Lawn Tennis Museum, which, as you may know, is the largest tennis museum in the world. Elisabeth was mostly impressed by the John McEnroe’s Ghost and the Wimbledon Shop at the Museum.

I left my biggest surprise last. I perfectly know that children are easy to impress, but despite her young age, my niece wants to be a ballerina, like me. That is the reason why I took her to the Eddie Catz Children’s Edutainment Centre. I thoroughly checked their weekly schedule and I was pretty sure that there are going to be a ballet practice for children in the Twinkle Toes Ballet Studio. In addition to the fact that ballet helps children with their co-ordination, posture and concentration skills, the children have a lot of fun, which, after all, is the most important for all of us.

My niece was totally fascinated with the surprise and really had a lot of good time. And my sister… well, I suspect that she would ask me to have with Elisabeth a regular aunt-and-niece days, which pretty much shows me that I did my initial goal.