11 March 2018
19 Feb 2018
I reside in Confused Central. And I can’t with the neighbourhood, it’s got too many corners and little streets that look the same, all designed to confuse me. I want to move to the superior Everything Is Black And White district so my mind and emotions can take a permanent vacation. Alas.
Like most women (all women?) I have my own story of an unpleasant sexual encounter, which I have written about here. Initially, I told it in the context of how a blow job, administered
6 Feb 2018
As I have mentioned on the blog more than once, one of my fears when it comes to my seven-year-old Sofia is that she ends up an underachiever like me. And yes, I hear all of the parents who want to push the “happiness over anything else” agenda, and I respect the nobility of it, I do, but here’s the thing that doesn’t leave my brain: WILL she be happy knowing that she has left no imprint behind her, no story to tell? This, of course, is the hilarious mindf-ck of parenthood – that you will never know whether your parenting choices have been “right”
5 Feb 2018
22 Jan 2018
I have been battling two Autoimmune diseases since 2010 – Ulcerative Colitis and Ankylosing Spondylitis – a relatively rare form of arthritis that originates in the spine area. At some point, in an attempt to beat the inflammation, I had gone raw (with food) and managed to get everything under control. Unfortunately, to my massive surprise the effect didn’t last and now, after two years of remission, the f-cking asshole is back and I am afraid I’m going to have to take a break from writing, hopefully, no more than two or three days.
19 Jan 2018
18 Jan 2018
Aziz Ansari, would you have believed it. Would I have believed it? I want to blurt out a reactive no but had to keep in mind that this is the man who has refused to comment on his friend’s and mentor’s Louis CK accusations. Still, not unlike the situation with Matt Damon’s ignorance, I have been fooled by the public persona and what that public persona attempts (pretends?) to stand for. Matt Damon would always have had easier time to appear intelligent and serious – when your best friend is someone who f-cks up as consistently as Ben Affleck does, by as
17 Jan 2018
Can I please take this opportunity to let myself know I did a good job going through travelling and vacationing without disrupting the blog’s schedule? This self-praise does not intend to cover the quality of writing produced but only the fact that the organisational skills were on-point. I hope what it means is that, moving forward, I will be able to take short trips without interrupting the roll-out of posts. That would be nice, wouldn’t it?
16 Jan 2018
“Would you like a second child?” People have been asking me this intensely since the day I peaced out of the birthing wing of the Chelsea Westminster hospital. People are f-cking obsessed with women having children, women themselves are obsessed with having children, it seems like every single person around you insists you have more children. Truly, I would love to give this impression of mine the benefit of the doubt and ask if it’s no more than just that – an impression – but no, this time I am certain I am not simply “hearing things”. People
15 Jan 2018
12 Jan 2018
11 Jan 2018
Ideally, in keeping with the blog’s structure, I would like to go on dedicating my Thursday posts to celebrities and show business. Because I love everything about it and because my fascination, in my head, is rationalised with how gossip and pop culture reflect the world at large, which I will forever believe that they do. But there’s been So.Much.Sh-t.Going.On in the no longer glossy world of Hollywood and fake glamour that choosing a person to write about only once a week has become a real-ass challenge.
10 Jan 2018
9 Jan 2018
When was your first crush, do you remember? I remember mine: kindergarten, I guess somewhere between 4 and 6 years old? I can still recall his name and everything, and, bonus, the attraction was mutual! I wonder now if he was a “good” boy, I mean I think he was, I don’t remember him getting into any trouble or anything. If so, if he was a well-behaved boy, then I’m sad to say my first crush experience didn’t leave the psychological mark and the standard for choosing future men went straight down. And has stayed down.
08 Jan 2018
Lame title, sorry, I know.
Speaking of living the single life is scary. It’s strange how I am always brave to think it but afraid to say it. This post is inspired by yet another conversation I had with my very good friends, a couple who have been together 15 years (!). Basically, they don’t believe me. In fact, nobody believes me when I say that being alone suits me best, I feel the most content and free
5 Jan 2018
4 Jan 2018
My first reaction to this article in Vulture about Eminem being on dating apps which my friend has sent me was that I don’t believe it. My exact words were: there are all these exclusive apps specifically for the rich and famous why would Eminem go plebe? My second words: I’m signing up (again).
Most people are taking issue with, and by that I mean quoting, the Grindr comments (an app designed for gay or bisexual hook-ups):
3 Jan 2018
I hate everything about this. These hours that I am not used to spending on writing, or on anything else that requires focus for that matter, I am not feeling content in any way with spending these precious hours in the quiet (I can only focus when everything around me is dead-silent) when I know that my parents, whom I seldom get to see, are out somewhere for a coffee and chill. I hate prioritising writing over meeting up with the very few friends I actually have, I hate writing instead of sitting in front of the TV deep-diving into the Russian music
2 Jan 2018
It’s funny how I feel I am always overwhelmed with Sofia’s “problematic” behaviour and every day it feels like she sets out on a purposeful mission to pour a little bit more sh-t over my head but here, at home in Moscow, when she is at my parents’, I’ve not much negative to say. Um, yay? It’s as if I’ve been freed from the emotional turmoil I coil myself into and the few hours I spend with her each day bring me joy only. Indeed, an unusual and confusing state of affairs.
1 Jan 2018
Every time the first of the month is a Monday I lose my sh-t a little bit, I always think it’s such a serendipity. This entire year is giving us the gift of beginning on a Monday and I am telling you I am feeling so extra excited and organised in my head it’s not even an exaggeration. Everything is aligned, the universe is not a coincidence (it is) and it makes perfect sense (it doesn’t).
29 Dec 2017
28 Dec 2017
27 Dec 2017
This is a trip – being (in the OG) home and having a structure into which writing daily is factored in and prioritised. I am beyond grateful and relieved that it is my parents who have accepted the relay of burden all things Sofia because no way would I have been able to cope. No chance in holiday hell. I AM coping though, and so far, I have said a few nos to coffee outings and general f-ckabouts and I am still indecisive whether it’s killing me of making me feel like I’m the one doing the killing. Like, am I slaying the holidays with what could slightly
26 Dec 2017
It’s not bad being home. Mama and papa and Sofia in one place, me in another – not bad at all. As I’m typing this, it’s starting to snow, proper big-ass snowflakes, and suddenly I’ve stopped pretending like winters are the worst. As Sofia is conveniently placed at my parents’, which is across the road from mine, I have all this time to be by myself and stare out the window whilst not having to apply physical care to anyone but me. While the snowflakes roll out. Happy holidays indeed.
26 Dec 2017
22 Dec 2017
21 DEC 2017
20 Dec 2017
This week has been a drrrragg. I don’t know what it was about: no energy, not enough sleep, no enthusiasm whatsoever. I don’t need to tell you that that sucks balls – if enthusiasm goes, Regret Everything will go with it. And literally was using any excuse to do whatever else but write. I had to use proper force to drag myself by the hair and loathed every minute of it.
Maybe I am just not wired with grit, you know? There must be a reason behind my fickleness and tendency to favour quitting. Or is it because I don’t see the end? The bigger picture?
19 Dec 2017
Every single week I give myself a solemn promise to finally write something positive about parenthood and yes, every week I fully intend to keep it, because of course there are great things to say, but, sh-t, Sofia lives another week just to outdo herself… and me. She may be seven but she is on some conspiracy level sh-t and nothing is coincidental, I am sure of it.
On the last day of term, I picked her up from school half an hour early, like all the cool mums do, so we could go see the newly-released movie “Wonder”. (Please, I urge you, whoever
18 Dec 2017
15 Dec 2017
14 Dec 2017
I am obsessed with popular culture. Now that I’ve put it out there let’s move on to how my brain works around it: I study pop-culture and its main participants in order to see how the minds of the First World work for I believe that gossip is a prism through which non-famous people are exposed. There are celebrities I do not care about (Jennifer Aniston), celebrities I will always avoid (Johnny Depp, Justin Timberlake, Leonardo DiCaprio) and celebrities I adore and will ask “how high?” if they ask me to jump (Zendaya, Jake Gyllenhaal). My brain is
13 Dec 2017
It’s a tug-of-war, this. The new episodes of Peaky Blinders have come on Netflix, I feel torn every minute of each day: writing vs watching TV. How the hell are my priorities so flaky?
Anyway, it’s been a testing week, in a literal sense of the word “testing”, because my writing routine has been interrupted by not having two weekends in a row to myself. Normally, what tends to happen is that Sofia spends every weekend at her father’s, which allows me enough time to prewrite some of the content for the week ahead. Not having this time though means
12 Dec 2017
Baby got multitudes. She is as able to make me feel every misery my insides, and outsides, are capable of, as she is to make me feel like there is no world outside our flat and everything I will ever want is right here, wrapped in a towel, beside me. For a change, I want to speak about the later. I debate often whether I am or am not a “natural” parent – for the sake of the argument let’s assume there’s nothing confusing about this notion – some sh-t is so easy for me to do I am baffled that there are actual adults who struggle (following through on your