Forget Chard Smoothies, Make Chocolate [Rotterdam Parents]


Everyone is talking about fresh beginnings, as we are only 12 days into the new year. Promises, diets, gym memberships, juicing strategies are all over my social media. If you read my last post, you know how well I did with last year’s resolutions and you also know what approach I’ve taken toward this year’s – there won’t be any promise I already know I can’t keep, but a consciously crafted, meticulously slow-paced, plan to conquer the world.

What I’m thoroughly convinced of, is that you can’t conquer the world while on a diet. Actually, I believe that diets are the single greatest enemy of anyone who desires or needs to lose weight and/or feel good about themselves. Take it from someone who has gone through at least 27 of them, brushed her tits against two eating disorders, and spent eighteen months dropping L-carnitine while lifting weights in a seedy gym smelling of severe male armpit: diets are traps. Continue reading

Year Two

year 2

In December there have been way more parties than throughout the entire year. Guests, dinners, desserts on fire. Candles, decorations, presents, tons of mandarin peels left to dry overnight on messy red tablecloths. Two different versions of Saint Nicholas bringing gifts, office parties, cards with wishes for a good Christmas, a New Year ablaze, a happy life. And all of it is quite awesome, not that I am a great fan of family occasions, but it would be foolish and childish not to recognize what a good life we have, because we absolutely do. Of course too much family too close for too long can be pretty asphyxiating (if you don’t take Valium or the like), but then again what would we do without them. Still, none of these seasonal occasions stands a chance against Continue reading

The Great 2015 HoROCKscope

I love the beginning of each New Year. It’s a shimmering time made of bubbles and shivers of blind hope. One of the things I love best about the New Year is the sudden deluge of all kinds of horoscopes appearing on the covers of everything.

I love to read horoscopes: traditional, Chinese, Celtic, of the Trees, of the Angels, Tibetan, whatever, doesn’t matter, I read them all, they are like pimped-up movie trailers for the months I’m about to live. It doesn’t matter if I forget about whatever prediction has been drafted for me immediately after I put down the magazine, I don’t have to know if the forecast will prove accurate or not. Reading horoscopes brings me an instant gratification completely devoid of consequences and I like that.

So this year, for all of you out there who have been reading this staggering blog of mine and have encouraged me to go on, I want to give my own version of this innocent moment of astrological oblivion, as a present. To achieve that, I prepared myself a huge pot of Raspberry-and-Peppermint tea, lit a red candle, pulled out my deck of Tarot cards (yes, I do own one – surprise?) and what came out of the combination of the above mentioned ingredients is:


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