When you look for sth here

Saturday, 28 November 2015

All I want for Christmas - the Mustela way

All of the sudden I have that thing for candles again.
(That's not necessarily true; it's not that sudden; there's a trigger; no need to talk about that now though.
But it is not sudden.)

For as long as I remember, I've had a thing for candles.
Always lighting one when someone close to me would have had her birthday.
While I am not afraid of darkness - feeling it embraces me rather than makes enemies with me - I like the light of candles: soft, slightly blurred, and warm just from looking at it...

Now I have a candle on. This one:

I like its smell. Not Jo Malone-ish, or any perfume-scented. It has a smell of a healthy baby. Freshly washed, cuddled, and wrapped in her mummy's caring arms.
An essence of motherhood locked in a candle.

It came together with a set of Mustela bebe range:

All packed neatly in a cheer-me-up cosmetics bag with a catchy slogan (and it's working, I tested it:): 'I am a beautiful mum'

For the last 2 weeks we have been using the products.
The candle smells really nice ... but I mentioned that already:)
The cleansing gel, the body lotion, and the moisturizer for chest area are all second to none for a 2.5-year old MiniMan, who coincidently had an unexplained rash on his tummy, all gone within 2 days of using the range. Astonishing results, really, and much better than after using even the mildest of steroids, like hydrocortisone (not to mention potential serious side-effect from the latter, never appearing with Mustela products).
The no rinse cleansing water is great when picking up a hungry and highly energetic 7-year old SuperSpider girl.
The Cold Cream sample, quite generous in size, actually, proofed to work perfectly well in line with frosty November mornings, and otherwise sensitive skin on our faces.

Looks like we like it.

Anyone's interested in using it?
Then you will have to buy it. I am not going to share mine. Not even a single drop:)

All the above mentioned products have been received at no charge, and in return for an honest review, under the brand ambassador for Mustela project, which I am proudly taking part in.

Converted, two-faced, and universal

After years of a two-faced acclamation of no-TV life, I failed.
Started watching the famous House.
And enjoying it, which is even more annoying.

In one of the episodes, the 5 stages of dying were revealed. Apparently (with few members of my family being heavily involved in saving lives, I should have known that; I didn't...), apparently then - this is an actual theory, called Kuebler-Ross model.

I watched it, read it - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance - and thought: really? It was invented in the 60s of the XXth century?

There was a poet in Poland, who used to sit under a tree and write, you guessed it, poems. He lived over 500 years ago. When his little daughter passed away (not a big deal back then, however cruel that may sound; the mortality ratio among children was way much higher than today), he wrote a series of 20 poems, digging into his soul, describing his tragedy.
In short, it was the most ultimate selfie of a soul missing someone really close.

And the individual pieces of the series were forming a journey each devastated human being may follow after death. There was disbelief at first, followed by rage, attempts to understand it, complete sorrow and pain, and finally - consolation.
Rings a bell?

I am not at all suggesting Ms Elizabeth Kuebler-Ross read Swedish translation of Jan Kochanowski poems, and decided to use these, in a sneaky way, as a basis of her theory.
I am suggesting death is universal. What we feel is universal.

And if I think about it a bit longer, the 5 stages of dying deal with every type of loss.
Like the one after a break-up.

Friday, 27 November 2015


Yesterday I finished reading 'Blink', a truly amazing book. Non-fiction full of eye-opening and inspiring thoughts, facts, and figures. And not boring at all:)

I like reading. It makes me a better person as it calms me, makes me think, and step back. All helpful.

'Blink' was with me for over 3 weeks. Was it a pure coincidence, or a side effect of reading - but I have changed. Again. Became more focus-oriented (there are still things that can distract me, but I can identify them now more easily), better organised, and less biased.

'Blink' talks about the first impression. Micro gestures. Decisions made in an instant. Unlike many other publications, which used to tell me to analyze, to get more details, and to control that instinct we all have, this very book lets me acknowledge my thoughts, and act upon them. Just make sure they are there, and that sometimes they can influence my decision more than required.

What's fascinating is, I can actually change that trigger which makes me think and judge others, and their behaviour in a certain way.

What's even more fascinating is, too much information is a killer.
Something you would never find anywhere else.
Apart from sophisticated selling technique manuals, possibly.

But 'Blink' is about all aspects of life. My life.


Tuesday, 24 November 2015

Gazing and assessing

It's quite interesting, and so very unacceptable - in London, at least - to look at people taking the underground.
(By the way, it's still quite fascinating for me that large part of the underground is actually over the ground, while a similarly significant part of overground tracks goes below the ground... Talking about names...)

It's a golden rule not to stare at people. At all.

I broke that rule this past weekend, when I was on a train a lot.

There seem to be few types of people traveling: the tourists, the workers, the wanderers.
Vast majority with their Meeee-phones (me included:), glued to their screens; playing games, watching movies, reading, staring at some photos they took, or got.

Some are different. So much in the train and not in the train at the same time. In their own world, overwhelmed by their deep thoughts. Clearly in the middle of something happening in their lives. Not necessarily happy, but not very sad either.


I'm with them, too.

(By the way, it's quite fascinating for me that large part of these thoughts about other people is actually a reflection of my own thoughts about me... Talking about assumptions...)

Friday, 20 November 2015

Honesty and rudeness

There's a thin line between being direct and unkind. Sometimes, we cross it. Not necessarily on purpose, but when we look into the other person's eyes, we know.
We crossed it.

The place I live in now is full of appreciation for a reserved behaviour. Polite to the extreme, restrained, people in general would rather die than say something which could be identified as rude.
Yet, they cross that line, too.

Another proof that stereotypes are being economical with the truth.

However, we are taught to stay true to ourselves. To stand for what we see, and believe in what we say as honest.

How to define that thin line? When it is barely there?
Is offending others the way of life?

Questions we try and find answers to all our lives.

I have that mirror test which usually works.
When I look at my reflection in the mirror in the evening, and I can look into my eyes, and smile, I know it was a good day. A day where I stayed true to myself, most of the time.

Sometimes, however, I avoid my own look. Afraid I would become one of basilisks from that European legend, able to kill with one single glance.
Then I know, that - most of the time - it was the day I didn't cross the line. But lied to me.

Wednesday, 18 November 2015

5 am challenge

Looks like I'm inspired by energetic Ekaterina, and her idea.

Actually, it's my MiniMan. He has no problem with an early start.
He mastered it.
Driven by desire for a bowl of cereals with milk, he uses few of a vast array of his sophisticated 'wake up, mummy!' techniques.

In result, we're up. Eating (obviously, I'm in for that, too; no one should eat alone:), talking (not me this time:), jigsawing (MiniMan, with focus and passion any entrepreneur wish he had), and reading (ha!:).

Around us, nothing happens. We're the centre of excitement, movement, and frustration, but only for a while, when a particularly stubborn piece doesn't seem to fit into the whole picture. The meaning of life, 2.5-year old way...

[7:30 am update
We managed until 6:00. And then the nap took us both over; my MiniMan and me.
Power nap. It was a power nap:)
With sweet dreams, at least on my end. Who would resist...:)]

Monday, 16 November 2015

Show them that you care

This was the message I heard during one of the podcasts about an interesting public relations story. Which, apparently, each entrepreneur should have - whether already successful, or aspiring, or both.

Well, I have none.

Let's face it, who would be fascinated with 'how it all started'. Unless it's Apple. Then they make a movie about it, and choose a character with least possible resemblance to the actual person who made the fruit no longer associated with a certain capital. Big times.

So I should fake it all. Pretend something happen, present a tarted up version, and show them that I care.
I don't give a ... No, that's not necessarily true, I do care about the environment I live in now, and about the world my kids will live in. But am I really that devoted to others? Recently, I've been selfish to the extreme. So nope.

I'd rather be genuine. And stop talking (too much:), and restart listening.

Worst case scenario, I will learn something from others.
Best case, I'm a future film star.

Looks like a win-win to me:)))

Sunday, 15 November 2015


I have no dual nationality. Just one. Usually, it's more than enough.

These days, my fellow nationals share their xenophobic attitude without any second thoughts whatsoever. How we should stay clear of others since, clearly, it's their fault there is violence on Earth.


These days, I wish I was somebody else. Irish, for example.
At least I could appreciate Guinness more.

I wish.

Saturday, 14 November 2015

Going down

I like French. There's something magical to the music and vibe this language has. Plus, it was the one my grandma knew. And the reason I tried to learn it as best as I could.

I like Paris. There's something magical to the atmosphere of this city. Plus, when I've been there (only twice, definitely not enough), the timing was right, I felt really good, not overwhelmed by any emotions (meaning: not in love with anyone, not devastated after any breakup, not feeling sad after someone's death), just enjoying the air. And smiling.

I don't like violence. Which sounds a bit two-faced, since I use violence. Not the extreme end, but I raise my voice when angry. Trying to stay composed all the time doesn't work.
Just making sure it doesn't aim at my children's wellbeing. That doesn't work either, not all the time. I sometimes raise my voice when I explain something to them. Patience has its limits. Sometimes the line is too thin.

Now, if you put together French, Paris, and violence today - it's sad. Freedom no longer. There is fear in place. And yes, anger, and irritation. And pain, and suffering.

I am probably one of the hundreds of millions of people now writing about this.
That doesn't really matter.

What's most important, none of these people, me included, cannot turn back time.
And ease the suffering. Or pain.

Friday, 13 November 2015

What a difference

It's quite funny how one day, or one evening even, can change you. Boost your confidence, make you smile, and almost happy.

That's how I felt after that Bloggers event on Tuesday, in the Body Shop Oxford Street store, where Estée Lalonde was launching her nail art kit.
Pure retail therapy and indulgence in one.

Yet, there's something more. Seeing women, younger and a little bit closer in age to me :), mingling around a popular Canadian blogger / vlogger, who chose London as a location for her heart and soul few years back, was reassuring. And uplifting.

All the people at the event are active social media users. Creative, interested in what's going on. Some struggle with wording (ekhm), some are flawless with sharing their experiences and thoughts around lifestyle, fashion, and beauty. That evening, it was a baseline that didn't really matter. What mattered was, we were all there. The power of women. Regardless of our backgrounds, personal situations, or people we are with, we were all free. To talk. To laugh (a lot). To get great pictures. And to learn, and grow even more.
Extremely positive happening that was.

Oh, and I got treated to hands massage and total face makeover. All in a gentle, and not pushy way (none of these: 'only with these eye shadows your eyes will finally look bigger, brighter, and better'. None of these:).

Thanks for the wonderful experience. For great shots of Estée and me, when I got a chance to talk to her in person - charming and warm personality:) all the best for her in her career, and kudos for the clever kit she created - it can really make your nails stand out a bit more, again in a subtle and elegant way.

Finally, special thanks to Jennifer, a MUA who really did make my eyes look bigger, brighter, and better:) Yay! :))

Wednesday, 11 November 2015


Never really appreciated unless it's gone.
The right to be whoever you want to be, wherever.

Speaking your own language without being hushed, or judged.

Wave the flag you connect to most.


Sunday, 8 November 2015

Expiry and pattern

Death is fearless. But all seem to be full of fear when confronted.

Death is something you face everyday. And you don't need to be a nurse, a fireman, or an assassin. Like me the other day, it could have ended differently. That car might have not stopped. It happens to so many human lives this very minute.
Luck? Or bad faith?

Why are we here? A question I should've asked myself 10 years ago, at least - I guess I'm younger (at heart) than I thought I am. But seriously, why are we here? What is the reason? If it was only to make the genes pass from one generation to another, half a million people worldwide would be enough.

I'm reading this interesting collection of daily habits now of those who somehow marked their existence, one way or another.
(Daily Rituals: How Great Minds Make Time, Find Inspiration, and Get to Work, by Mason Currey)  
Like Chopin, or Simone de Beauvoir, or Fellini, for example.

Apparently, there's no golden rule in terms of what to do exactly to secure yourself fame. Recognition. Accomplishment. Power, or money.

But there is one thing all the heroes from the book have in common.

There was some kind of habit of how they created. And the sooner they realised it, the more productive, and effective they were.

Maybe that is the reason for all to live? For me to live? Identify that habit to keep me going? And give energy to others through what I do?

Saturday, 7 November 2015


When expecting my SuperSpidergirl, I used to watch Greys Anatomy.

I know.
What could be better than a combination of blood, flesh, pain and trauma served in an aestheticly pleasing way. So real, and so authentic. Just what you need when facing a natural birth. For the first time.

There's a reason why I seem to enjoy medical, crime, and mystery themes in literature, movies, and art (The Anatomy Lesson of Dr. Nicolaes Tulp, one of my favourite Rembrandt pieces, being one example:).
I was supposed to join my cousins, uncles and aunts, who chose to serve people saving their lives. But apparently there was not enough talking involved in their everyday work. Therefore I went for business trade...:). Yet, I have a lot of respect for their work.

In one of the Greys episodes, I found out the eternal truth. Managed to prove it few times myself. And that's why I have a lot of respect for that TV series, too.

If you're in a deadlock, go back to the basics.
It usually works.

Friday, 6 November 2015

Live, Read, Like

My favorite philosopher, Aristotle, believed that experience is key; you are made of what you go through. Couldn't agree more.

Aristotle was an extraordinary guy. Created library in Lyceum (for that alone, I could just bow for him:_). Taught by Plato, went his own route, forming natural philosophy; something I seem to be more and more in awe of.

Taking that definition of liking someone, for example.
We like those who are like us, which is probably the reason why we are searching for similarities, even subconsciously, in those who we seem to like. To proof our point. To like them even more.
We like being liked. We are social at heart. While some of us appreciate loneliness more, it's not what makes us human - it's actually more of what helps us balance some extremely entertaining moments of our lives.
The likeness defines, more or less, our actions. Especially when the reality hits us, with anger, misunderstandings, arguments, and lack of support. We fish for those who like us. And choose them.

Choices are what make us. This is all that matters, really. And that goes beyond good, or bad. Whether we suffer, or feel extremely joyful; the emotions, feelings, and thoughts accompanying any decision making process shape us. Tweak our vulnerability. Clarify our mind. Help us focus better on what we should, and shouldn't do.

And, unlike tangible assets, these are not to be taken away from us.

Tuesday, 3 November 2015


It's all about them. Choices. Decisions. Consequences of both.

 I had a discussion about it recently, with my mum.
She's the fatalist, so she believes our destiny is written somewhere, and we just follow the path. And when we decide, it's not us, actually, as all the decisions were already taken. By someone else. By super someone.

I am on the other end of the spectrum. Believing, quite blatantly - and more like an adolescent, not an adult - that it's us, and us only who decide. Well. Almost us...

Yet, I somehow agree with her - there is something to it; some inner voice which might as well be super someone's. Which tells us what to do. Prevents us from doing something.

Or sleeps blissfully. And lets us make our own mistakes.