Obviously...

It's clear that I feel the need to write a post and you may ask yourself why when I have written one not such a long time ago. It's obvious, of course, I like to see my thoughts reflected back to me in black and white. It makes me feel that I really exist. Without the act of putting down my thoughts in a structured form, they would not take on any real meaning and would not become as clear to me. 

This is really a way of thinking out loud and giving shape to what is yet unformed in my head. The best thing about writing them down is rereading them and gaining understanding. I reread them immediately and some time later down the line when I have forgotten them and can be pleasantly surprised again. They usually offer some insight into the way I rationalize my behavior and think things through. It's a way of analyzing myself. 

I read between the lines and remember whatever was important to me at the time and what sort of mood I was in and what I didn't put down. My memory does not forsake me yet. I'm carried back instantly to the time I wrote it. Whole scenarios play themselves out in front of my eyes. Luckily, lately there's not been a lot of drama. 

The end of drama came with the end of my marriage so there has been no drama for almost four years, except for the occasianl bout. Those occur less and less frequently as I slowly normalize. If the word exists, it is possible to become it so I want no arguments about that. 

Speaking of exes, the Exfactor will not be able to go grocery shopping today so I will have to go without Greek yoghurt and bananas and vanilla pudding. That is a hardship that I had not counted on. I had planned everything down to this very day. I will have to eat different foods today and those are whatever is left in the cupboards and the refrigerator. I'm sure I'll manage but it won't be as exciting. I've got enough milk anyway and enough instant coffee. 

I haven't gotten my new telephone number in the mail yet so officially I can't make any phone calls. Of course I've got my mobile phone so I'm not cut off from the world conpletely. I had memorized my other number really well and hope the new one is equally easy to remember. I'm going to be very careful about who I give it to. Few people will have it. If I had known it was going to be such a problem having a land line, I wouldn't have done it. Now I'm stuck with the consequences. 

It's time for me to drink some buttermilk. It's the first glass I'm going to have. I look forward to it very much and I hope it's a s good as I remember it. It's been in the refrigerator for a couple of days and so far I've been able to resist it. It should be very thirst quenching anyway. Hmmm...that reminds me of buttermilk pancakes!

I hope you all had a good night.

Ciao,

Irene

Nostalgia...

I was just standing by the back door and apparently it has been such a wet month that it smelled like autumn in the night air. It really and truly only is July still, but it smelled like October. If there had been the smell of a wood fire, I would not have been surprised. 

The smell of autumn brings back all sorts of memories. None of them unpleasant, really. It must not be a season that I really have a problem with. The only bad thing is that it is followed by winter and that season I do have a problem with. Like most everybody, I think. I'm thinking of cold wind and ice and snow and how much I dislike them. 

But it's still July, although barely, and we still have August to look forward to. Hopefully it will be a nicer month than July has been. Maybe we will see more sunshine. It has been the wettest July since 1906. Things just have to improve. 

Yesterday I reached the lowest point in my depression and had no reaction yet to the email I had sent to my psychiatrist. I came to find out that he was not going to be in the office until next Monday. I couldn't wait that long.

I managed to get a hold of my SPN and tearfully explained the situation to her. She contacted another psychiatrist who had access to my file and arranged for my anti-depressives to be increased. This meant faxing a prescription to the pharmacy and having the delivery boy drop the pills off in the early evening.

I don't expect miracles and to be cured overnight, but it does give me some hope to have this extra pill that will in the end start working if all goes well. I also feel better for having unloaded my mind with my SPN. It felt good to actually say how bad I really felt and how I was not managing well at all. 

I've pulled myself together now and will wait it out. I can't force anything to be different than what it is at this point. I will roll with the punches. Acknowledging a depression is half the work. 

It's early in the morning and I'm still drinking coffee. I don't think I will go back to bed as I have some chores to do before the domestic help gets here. I'm also expecting the Exfactor. Possibly I will sit in my armchair and read my book while I have more coffee to stay awake by.

I started reading 'We Were the Mulvaneys' by Joyce Carol Oates and I'm already gripped by it. Here is novel to sink your teeth into. It's the kind of book I've been longing to read. It's intellectually and emotionally challenging. She's a great writer anyway and I've liked most of her novels. This one has been sitting on my bookcase for a while waiting for me to read it and I finally started on it yesterday evening.

I also watched an episode of 'Pride and Prejudice.' It seems that I have missed many episodes and last night Lydia had already eloped with Mr Wickham. It's a good thing that I've already seen the series several times and that I've read the book numerous times. I know there's only one episode left and I know the outcome, but still it's fun to watch. Colin Firth is such a joy to behold. If only he could have stayed Mr Darcy forever.

I must make it a point to get dressed today. That should be the least of my efforts. It's been a tough thing to do. Maybe taking the dog out for a walk early will blow the cobwebs from my mind. It's a very ambitious plan. I'll have to wait for it to become dawn first. I'll try to be as brave as my abilities allow me to be. 

I hope you'll all have a good day.

Ciao,

Nora

The sense of medicines...

Because I had not been feeling my old self lately, I asked my psychiatrist today if I could increase my anti-depressants. I told him the reasons why and he said it was okay with him if I felt that I couldn't wait a few days to see if it would improve. I thought about that, but realized that I didn't want to continue feeling the way I was. I felt like I was fighting an uphill battle and that I was going down hill.

What bothered me especially was the over analyzing of my thoughts that I was doing continuously and still want to do, although now that I realize that I'm depressed, I try not to do this anymore. I don't give it the legitimacy that it had before. I was picking every word and deed and thought apart until nothing was left whole and unexamined, but because I looked at it through dark and negative  colored glasses, nothing looked right and I couldn't get a clear picture. 

Like I said, I try not to over analyze my thoughts anymore and I'm waiting for the medication to do its job. I have faith in it, just like I believe in not using it when it's not necessary. At the same time, I'm not going to take myself so seriously. I'm going to leave my thoughts alone and not pick them apart. I will treat myself like an ailing person who has to get better.

That doesn't mean I'm out of the woods yet. I feel major discomfort creeping up on me as I write this. My mood is morose. I have deep and dark thoughts and unpleasant memories popping up their head.  Scenarios that are unwanted and uncalled for enter my head and are played out and they are painful. They make my toes curl in my boots. It's best to keep myself occupied.

One way I did that today was to watch the continuous news about the devastation in Japan from the earthquake and the tsunami. I guess my troubles pale in the face of that. It's always good to keep a sane perspective on things, though you must not neglect your own problems because other people in the world are having worse ones.  You'd never get around to taking care of yourself that way.

I have to walk Tyke, he is waiting impatiently. He has just eaten his dinner.

Have a good night.

Ciao,
Nora

Moving along quietly...

I feel serenity as I sit here in the middle of the night behind the computer with a cup of coffee. It's a very pleasant feeling and I'm grateful for it. I feel it often enough to know that I can count on it and I sure appreciate its regular presence in my life. I often wished for it when I was younger and now that I'm older and wiser and appreciative, I'm glad that it's part of my daily life. 

I have long moments throughout the day and night that I'm struck by this feeling of serenity and contentment. I find myself blessed by it. I don't analyze it, but accept it for what it is, and that is the complete absence of aggravation and stress. Some things are attainable in the end and serenity is one of them. I hope that I will always find contentment in the sheer act of being alive. 

I find that I'm happiest in my own company and that the feeling of serenity is strongest when I'm all by myself. I do enjoy the time spent with other people, but it doesn't have to be long. An hour or so is more than enough. It's like getting your tank filled and cruising along down the road on your own and enjoying the scenery, though the scenery I see is all in my head and is made up of uncomplicated thoughts and images.

I do get pulled off my path by daily life as it happens with its minor complications, but I try to keep the chances of that happening to a minimum. My whole life is carefully tuned to avoid major obstacles. I find that the big ones are those that take place in my own head and I can realign them. Painful memories are the ones that come to mind immediately, but I've found a way to deal with them. I no longer get bogged down in them. 

It's been two days since the last reduction in my anti-depressives and I've had no adverse reactions yet, but then again, I wasn't expecting any. I do these reductions with a lot of optimism and with the assumption that all will be well. I do anticipate some possible reactions, but just assume that I will deal with them and so far there have been no really bad ones. 

Once in a while I think I feel something unpleasant and I'm somewhat on edge, but it is of a passing nature and something I get through and it is not serious enough to break my head over. I get over it by sitting in my armchair quietly and doing a bit of meditating while all around me it is silent. It is not too hard to get into this state of mind having enough experience with it now. 

At least my first reaction to an unpleasant feeling isn't to reach for a pill to make it go away. I have enough faith in myself to know it will pass on its own and that it's temporary as all feelings are. I can always aim for the higher goal of serenity and exist in that sphere. There's seldom a need to panic.

I think I will go back to bed. I'm sufficiently sleepy now. My bed is still the best place to be early in the morning. 

Have a good day all of you.

Ciao,

Nora

C'est la vie...

I'm waiting for the coffeemaker to finish brewing the coffee. I can't wait to have a fresh cup. I am in dire need of one. I just had some milk to quench my thirst, but it didn't wake me up. I did function without coffee and managed to write emails that were quite coherent, but I'm yawning still and definitely need the caffeine to get me started properly. 

I craved Nutella and had a couple of teaspoons of that straight from the jar. It is my energy boost and I figure the hazelnuts in it are good for me. It's my secret passion, though I can't have too much of it all at once. There is a limit to how much of it I can eat, but that is good. A little bit goes a long way and takes care of the craving. When I say teaspoon, I mean one of those little teaspoons that are used with china cups  and saucers and tea glasses. Not what Americans consider teaspoons to be. Those are dessert spoons in my book.  

Yesterday, my SPN and I started discussing my second marriage and that brought us back to the very beginning of it in California where I lived then and I had to tell about my situation then. I talked about that period in my life with a lot of nostalgia and love and quite extensively, but later when I was home, I wondered if in my head all this time, I had not romanticized this period of my life too much and forgotten all the gritty details.

You see, I'm sure I have, and that I've only told a little bit of the story and not the whole truth. I think I walk around for years with the romanticized version of my life in my head and have heartaches about it, but when it comes down to analyzing everything, it turns out not to hold up under close scrutiny and the truth comes to the surface. I have to face all the not so nice things about it and destroy the mythology that I've built up around it.

Luckily, I'm willing and able to do that. I'm not afraid to dismantle the myth if it helps me let go of the pain. If they are just fables I've been believing in, then I'm more than willing to stop believing in them. I can't live my life as if it is a movie set or as if I am a character in an exciting novel. I can't have my memories be stuck in that kind of a format. I'm stripped of any romanticism now. I have no illusions about my life. I only see the naked truth. There's not one poetic bone left in my body.

I'm seeing my SPN again next week and I'll deal with the rest of the story and tell the truth. It will be good to have it all come out. 

The ice in the streets and on the sidewalks is covered with a new layer of snow. It will snow some more today. I'm expecting my other personal helper at 8:30 this morning. I have to get dressed before that time and get the show on the road. I wish she wasn't coming quite this early, but we thought it was a good idea to get me started well in the morning. 

Have a good day, all of you.

Ciao,

Nora

Leather boots?

It is early in the evening and I woke up a while ago from a long nap in my bed. I took my one and only tranquilizer that I now take during the day this afternoon, and as a result I got very sleepy and couldn't stay awake. So this is the amount of sleepiness that I had been fighting three times a day, every day. 

It's a good thing that I finally started to question that and that I no longer blamed it on the amount of sleep that I got at night. I was putting things in the wrong order. It wasn't because I didn't get enough sleep during the night that I was sleepy during the day. It was because I was so sleepy during the day that I didn't get enough sleep during the night. I hope that makes sense, because it does to me. It was like putting the wagon in front of the horse.

Anyway, I am doing this with the blessing of my psychiatrist, so that is good. I've learned not to do anything with my medicines without first consulting my psychiatrist. I do have to trust him in this area of expertise and not think I know it all. I've had the tendency to think that I know it better, but I really do have to learn to trust somebody else when it comes to these things. 

I have this stubborn streak in me that makes me want to figure out things on my own and it just isn't necessary. I have to learn to trust other people and their knowledge. I guess I didn't learn that when I was a kid or in another period of my life. It is possible that I have been around a lot of incompetent people. Or people that weren't trustworthy. I suppose I haven't felt safe enough before.

Well, after that statement I hardly know what to write, because it put me on a whole different train of thought far, far away. I will try and come back to the reality of today and rejoin the present human race. 

I always think of all these humans racing around doing their jobs and chores and activities, trying to keep up with themselves and each other, one even crazier than the other, all in the human race for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow that's as elusive as the rainbow itself.

But that's just an aside, I don't have all the answers either. I used to reach for the rainbow myself. I was chasing that pot of gold as fervently as the next person.

Enough already with the memories! This is not the time or place for them. I do have to stay in the here and now. It's a better place to be. It must be possible to write a post without daydreaming and sinking away into memories of a long ago life. Why do they hit me so much when I write a post? Is it because I refer to something? Is it that simple? 

It's a long time ago since I've done as much daydreaming as I do now. I used to do it all the time and think of it as a normal part of me, but I've very much rejected it as an unhealthy exercise. Now it seems to happen constantly, even when I'm preoccupied with something else. 

I started reading again today and I do notice that if I pay attention well enough to what I read, I don't daydream, but the book really has to capture my imagination. I'm reading a novel by Doris Lessing and her writing is so good that it does. 

It seems that I can drink fruit juice again. I had some this morning and it agreed with me and I'm having some right now without any problems really. I'll have to wait and see what happens during the night, but it would be nice if I could drink it again instead of all the milk that I drink. I do need some other vitamins too and it is thirst quenching.

It's not early in the evening anymore. I've wasted a lot of time. I'm going to put on my pajamas and bathrobe. I can stay up late, though, because it's the weekend.

Ciao,

Nora

An especially slow start.

I can't seem to wake up today. I've tried it several times now and each time I have to go back to sleep. I don't know how much the rainy weather plays a role in this. It did make me feel like I was held captive in the apartment. Not that I minded that very much. It was quite cozy inside. At one point I slept on the sofa, in my bathrobe with my slippers on, in the company of Tyke and Gandhi. All of us just fit. We were all scrunched together.

A great tiredness lies over me. All I want to do is lie down places in my bathrobe and not move from there. I think it is a way of avoiding things I do not want to do. Instead of going out there in the big bad world, I hole up in here and play it safe. It's a survival tactic that I have when things get too scary for me. I better cancel today and pretend I don't have to do anything, otherwise I'm going to have a panic attack and I'll be in real trouble. Maybe I'll be able to get dressed. That will be something anyway.

Now that I've admitted to that, I'm having a panic attack, of course, and I've had to sit here for a while and try to suppress it. I've taken my tranquilizers in the hope that they will work soon.

My daughter sent me images just a while ago of our old house that we were most happy in through Google maps. It showed the house and the street. I think this got to me more than I realized, because I dream about that house several times a month. I have a horrible ache in my chest and a lump in my throat. I didn't want to move from that house, but was practically forced to, because my husband at the time wanted to make a promotion far away. 

I'm calming down now. The tranquilizers are working. It's hard to be confronted with your past. Especially when you think you've closed the book on it. Well, except for in your dreams. I suppose it's always there in my subconscious. Living and breathing its own life. There's a lot of grief there and it is all unresolved. 

I'm going to lie down now. I feel worn out. Like I've been put through the wringer. I must find some peace and quiet. 

Ciao,
Nora

A misconception...

I managed to sleep for more than 7 hours last night, although I did get up to go to the toilet once. I was smart enough to go back to bed, but I woke up when I couldn't catch my breath and was having breathing problems, which would be the sleep apnea acting up. I got up then and looked at the alarm clock and decided that I had slept enough and that it was okay to start the day and go have a cup of coffee. 

So far that's all I've had, one cup of coffee, and I'm undecided if I will have another one. There's enough for one more cup in the pot and I think I may as well have it, though the desire is not great like it usually is. I used to drink coffee as if it were the elixir of life and I don't have that anymore now. Not since I've stopped taking my sleeping pill and on top of that, I'm sleeping better too.

I was out walking Tyke last night and found it very cold. I'm just not used to it anymore and can't imagine it getting colder than this. My legs don't feel warm enough in the leggings and pretty soon I'll have to start wearing knitted tights underneath them.

There seems to be some idea that I can't write about my memories here from when I was a child. That somehow this is going to be damaging to me and that by doing so I will become a sorrowful heap of sadness who won't be able to get through the rest of the day. I have to tell you that this is not true and that writing down these memories can be very liberating. I am, after all, exposing the experience for the farce that it was and the culprit for the bully they were. All of it was a farce, of which I was unfortunately the victim, but that is how I look back on it now. I was a child, but very much aware that something was majorly wrong with the picture. That I was ruled by imbeciles and the main goal in  my life was to become an adult as quickly as possible and be free of them. Now, it is true that this backfired on me, but the intention was there. 

Enough said about that. 

Tyke was very bad during the night and pulled my clothes off the rattan chair and chewed on my bra and my boots. I got very angry with him, but I don't think he is impressed. Now I have to leave my clothes in the bathroom where he can't get to them, but he also pulled a book off the shelf and chewed on it. He's being especially destructive lately, even though I take him for more walks. I think he wants more attention from me and it is possible that he's not getting enough of that. I have been preoccupied and he must sense that my mind is not on the job. 

Today is the first Monday that I'm also getting a personal helper besides on Fridays and I'm looking forward to it. She will motivate me to get things done and be company for me. Getting things done is the most important thing, such as taking a shower and washing my hair and finding new clothes to wear, which are important things to start the week with. I have a hard time getting the show on the road on Mondays and I also realized just now that I have to stop taking my tranquilizers in the morning, because they make me feel too tired and they slow me down. So I do need to drink some more coffee and hope they wear off soon. I won't take any this afternoon. I think I have enough in my system and it will be a good time to start reducing them. 

Right, I have to get going. I have to pick up the pieces of the destroyed book and clean up the kitchen. It does have to look as though I care a little bit. 

Ciao,
Nora 



 

 

Forget-me-nots.

 I found it impossible to write a cheerful post here yesterday. I tried it a few times but it was to no avail. Each time I got maybe one paragraph done and that was it. Then I sat and pondered the screen for a while until my screen saver came on and I knew nothing would come of the post I had planned to write. I was just not cheerful enough. I was mostly sleepy and took naps on the sofa and in bed. Actually, taking naps is a good thing when your mood is not co-operating. It is the best way to see you through it.

It was cold out and I couldn't get warm enough inside either, although the thermometer said it was 20C degrees. At one point, I wore my bathrobe over my clothes to get warm. I think I can't quite trust my thermometer. I have all the windows closed now and sometimes turn on the heater, though I try to be frugal with it and only turn it on if it's absolutely necessary. I doesn't help to sit here and have cold drinks. They cool off your whole body. I must remember to buy stuff to make hot chocolate with. That would be wonderful. I think I've already promised myself that before and forgot about it. I must put it on the shopping list.

Today is Sunday and a wonderful day to contemplate my navel and to sit and do nothing special at all, although I do have to get dressed to walk Tyke. I slept for 7 hours this morning, after I had gotten up in the middle of the night, and I feel very refreshed. I must try to go to bed quicker and get more sleep in. I don't always have the luxury of staying in bed so late, people do come and go during the week. I will make it a point to only stay up for a little while during the night and go back to bed sooner.

I have so many good intentions and then a lot of them fall by the wayside or only get halfway accomplished. I make them work to some point, at any rate to a point that I can live with them and be somewhat comfortable, but never to the point that they are perfectly worked out. There are always loose ends and unattained goals. I suppose that's my modus operandus. I live with them until I reach the point where I can't and I should have had a better system in place that would have supported me better.

I just got dressed and took Tyke out. It is cold outside and you really need gloves. It's 6C degrees and overcast. Still, there are people out for a Sunday stroll with their kids. You do have to get some fresh air on a Sunday. That's what the day is for. I remember that clearly from when I was a kid. We always went out for an afternoon stroll on Sundays. Sometimes we had a goal and sometimes we didn't. Usually it was some café to get a drink at. Tea or hot chocolate when it was cold. A cold soda when it was warm. And a beer for my father. Always a beer. He was a repressed alcoholic. In the closet, where my mother kept him by sheer willpower.

I remember my mother hitting my head once when we came home from one of these walks. I was standing on the door mat and she hit my head for not wiping my feet. My head hit the head of my cousin who stood next to me very hard. It was so demeaning. My mother didn't like me very much. I'll never forget that incident. It was a perfect example of her taking out her frustrations on me, the black sheep.

I mustn't get too bogged down in those memories. They are interesting to hold to the light, but I mustn't get lost in them. There is the here and now, today.

It's time for me to get something to eat. I'm starting to yawn from hunger and I'm getting cold too. I do think I should turn up the heater a bit now. I think I'll have a glass of warm milk to heat my old bones and raid the refrigerator for some protein.

Have a good evening!

Ciao,
Nora

Something completely normal...

It's in the very early hours of the morning and I feel like writing about very ordinary things, although I don't know how many ordinary things I have in me to write about. I want to get one thing out of the way first: that theory about me being up in the middle of the night because of my mother's murder? I am dismissing that whole idea right now and I'm not going to pursue it. Pretend I never even brought it up and that it has remained unmentioned, because I was on the wrong track. It was a misguided attempt at trying to find an explanation for a problem, but I think it is not the right one. I probably am not going to bring it up again.

Now, on to ordinary things. That's a little bit harder than I assumed it would be, because I have to take a whole different direction in my head. I will start with the fact that I'm sitting here with a glass of cold milk, but that I'm going to switch to coffee in a little while because I think I need it in order to function better. I was very thirsty, that's why I'm drinking the milk, but it doesn't do much for my spirit. It's too bad that cow milk does not have a magic uplifting ingredient like coffee does. It's so benign.

I've switched to a nice mug of coffee and I should feel the benefits of that quickly. Before you know it, I will be a perfectly well functioning human being. I won't have to fake it like I was doing up to now.

I have to decide which clothes I'm going to wear today and all I can think is that they need to be warm, so I must wear layers. There's a great desire to keep wearing the knitted black cardigan, but a body does want some variation once in a while, so I'll go to my closet and see what jumps out at me. I'm not depressed yet if I care about what I look like and I feel like wearing something bright, which is a good sign. The more colorful I am, the cheerier I am, or at least I'm making that effort.

I'm very glad that today is Friday, which is a day that I consider to be the serious run up to the weekend. The weekend starts for me at 2:30 this afternoon. That's when the domestic help leaves and when I'll have a clean apartment all to myself and hardly any obligations beside the usual chores that always need to get done. I do look forward to the somewhat unstructured days and the empty hours that I can fill as I please. I'm out of the pressure cooker, which my psychiatrist says I always live in.

The Exfactor is coming by today and I made sure that he knew not to come by when my personal helper is here, because he always forgets about that and shows up at the wrong time. It's just a little bit awkward to have them here at the same time, although he's always welcome for a cup of coffee. Speaking of coffee, I have the bottle of vinegar ready on the kitchen counter to run through the machine, because when I ask for 6 cups it only gives me 5, so I think it is time to clean it. I have had the coffee maker longer than a month and that is how often they recommend that you clean it when you have hard water.

It is because of all the limestone in the region that our water is so hard. There are whole cave systems in the hills where you can have guided tours, but many unofficial ones too where people can get lost and not find their way out. It's kind of a sport to go into them with a torch. Every once in a while a road sinks into a cave because the rainwater has worn away the roof of it. And remember, we call a hill a mountain. You would too if the rest of your country was flat and below sea level. When I was a child, there was a place in the forest where there were a few hilly sand dunes and we called this place 'Little Switzerland.' We were used to so little, there were even postcards of it.

Imagine my surprise when I was 15 and went to the Black Forest in the south of Germany and saw mountains for the first time. I immediately felt at home there and didn't want to leave. I felt like I belonged there and wanted to stay forever. We traveled all around the region and it was beautiful. I cried when we had to go home again. I saw those flat Dutch meadows of the north with their wet ditches and thought it was the most ugly place in the world. My heart was broken. I found out much later that the Black Forest was where some of my ancestors came from. It was in my genes.

I have an hour and a half left to go until dawn. The day is not creeping up on me yet, but soon will be. I'm feeling the restlessness of it already and have just taken my medicines and they should work shortly. I have to try and decide how long I'm going to sit here in my bathrobe, but I guess that's really up to Tyke and his early morning wishes. He's still asleep now, but soon enough he'll come to his senses and let me know that it's time to go out. I have to time my shower before or after.

Actually, there aren't any hard rules and I can plan it any way I wish, so I shouldn't fret ahead of time, but just let the scenario unfold as it will. I have to start thinking outside of the box more often. I do wish that would come more naturally to me instead of wearing it like a foreign costume. I'm an overanxious planner and worrier when I should be more carefree. I do have lots of opportunities to be it.

Allez, that's enough of that. I'm off to prepare myself for the day. I'll raid the closet first. I've got to find my denim mini skirt so I can alluringly show off my legs in their leggings. Yeah, right! Some people will do anything to get attention.

Have a good day!

Ciao,
Nora