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So, I`m standing in a line at the post office, patiently waiting for my turn and minding my own business. Suddenly I hear a quarrel and the woman in front of me storms off angry as hell.

“Did you see that?!” the clearly surprised and offended bank employee asks me behind the counter.

“Ahm, actually… No. Not really.” I reply, hoping that she won`t drag me into her own personal drama because I already lost half an hour standing there. As it turned out – I was wrong.

“All I did was to congratulate her on her pregnancy! How in the hell should I know that she`s just obese?!” – the woman continued clearly upset.

Aaaaaaand that was it. I could, heavens know I could zip it, ignore it and do what I was supposed to and get the hell out of there. But no, for some reason, I decided to open my mouth and reveal to her my point of view.

“Well, for the sake of argument, let`s say that I congratulate you know for being blessed. How come you are obviously not, the only logical explanation is that you are fat. Now, tell me, would that be a compliment or would you spend the whole day nagging and cursing?”

There she is, looking at me, not sure should she punch me in the face, throw a stapler at my reasonably big head or argue with me too. Honestly, it looked like a scene from a spaghetti western. You could almost hear Good, Bad and the Ugly soundtrack.  And then she decided, wisely, if I may add, to just sigh and say:

“You people are all so unreasonable…”

I had a friend with the similar situation – some girl she hasn`t seen in years told her “Oh my God! You are pregnant!” At the time my friend was on some insanely hard diet, trying to chase away the extra pounds, tormented by hunger and those skinny jeans that look good only on the window shop dolls. She was hurt by those words. So hurt that she started crying in the middle of the club.

Then when about those nasty bladder infections? I don`t know about you but during it, my tummy has a life of its own – it grows in all directions. Before that event, it never occurred to me that someone may think that I got pregnant.

The thing is that I don`t think that that girl or the woman in the post office wanted to be mean. That was just plain stupid. Inconsiderate and dumb. And in the end, why in the world would someone else be bothered by the size of your stomach? Why would they even care? The answer is – maybe not intentionally, but they are still proud on their flat tummy. So damn proud that they will use every possible situation, not even thinking about, to show to the world that THEY are the proud owners of a nice flat belly area. And you are not.

Honestly? I dont mind to have it unless it really starts to mess with my clothes. You know the situation; you really want to go to work in that pair of pants but somehow they refuse to collaborate and let you in. I love to eat. I really truly enjoy every bite. And I have a love-hate relationship with my scale. Usually, I swear it, get angry and ignore the damn thing for weeks. Then, after the loud argument with my favorite pants, I humbly get back to the scale almost praying to find a revelation that I haven`t climbed for few more pounds. And almost every time the scale starts to laugh frantically and I march away from it.

But does it matter? No.

I’ve spent years in dieting, almost died in a gym, (well, it felt like it) and spent money on several magic potions. And yes, I lost few pounds, then started to eat again and after it, I was right at the start. I really hope that I won`t allow myself to turn myself into a whale one day, but after all those years I came to the conclusion that my quality of life and how much I enjoy in it is what is important.

Not the size, not the weight, and definitely not random strangers and their opinions.

And that should be the motto of all of us.

In my world, the only blessing I need is my personal happiness. And I do hope that it’s yours too.

Because we deserve it, 174.

 

 

You know that famous premise which says that the universe will provide you just the thing where your thoughts and wishes are focused on? Some say that there might be something in it, just not in the way one would expect.

Lena had a dream. A very vivid, very strong, and above all a very passionate dream of getting herself a pure-blooded Norweigan. You know the type – tall, blond, strong, with piercing blue eyes, wide shoulders, and irresistible smile. A true Scandinavian treasure, the Viking which will knock her off her feet.

There was just one small problem – Lena lived in Poland and true to be told there weren`t many Norwegian men out there or any roaring Vikings for that matter. So she decided to be practical and do the only reasonable thing she could, to pack her bags and hit the fjords. And she did. Lena found herself a job, a place to live, and a good dictionary which thought her those three sweet little words of declaring her everlasting love – Jeg elsker deg.

Norway was beyond beautiful. It was stunning. In her first six months there, Lena was awed by the incredible beauty on almost every step. And we`re not talking just about that fascinating nature. The men there were truly gorgeous. There was just one thing that was bothering her. Lena was a little homesick. She missed her family, her friends, the familiar smells of her hometown… Even the pierogi she was making in her home did not taste as they should. But she had a mission, a reason why she came there in the first place – to fall in love with her own Viking.

And it finally happened. One Saturday morning Lena decided to hit the market. She had no particular plan, just to buy some food for the weekend, maybe have a cup of coffee and then get back come. And there she saw him, right in front of her favorite fruit stand – tall, blond, broad-shouldered, and completely irresistible. That was him. She simply knew it. Lena approached him a little closer, pretending to check out the fresh-looking apples and not him. At one moment, he turned around and dazzled her with a kind smile. And walked away.

Did she follow him? No. She was better than that. You can not catch a Viking prey by stalking. Oh, no, you have to tempt him to come to you. Everyone knew that. So the next Saturday morning, Lena put in some extra effort. She did her hair, chose more attractive clothes – nothing fancy, just a little more appealing which could tempt his beautiful eyes. And bam! He did notice her. After her polite nod over the apple section, Lena started a conversation with those few sentences she managed to learn well. He replied and that was it. She got him interested. The weekend after, Lena saw the guy on the market looking for her. So she invited him for a cup of coffee. There she introduced herself and got lost in those immensely deep blue eyes.

Did they make it? Oh, yeah. They are actually living together for a year now. Lena could not be happier. But there was just one catch. It turned out that her stunning Norwegian Viking wasn`t Norwegian at all. In fact, his name was Jakub – an exquisite example of a Polish genetic pool. Yup, Jakub was a very kind, very nice, and a really stunning Polish guy who moved there a couple of years ago.

It seems that her burning desire to find the love of her life wrapped in a really appealing original Scandinavian package was distracted by her heart yearning for home. And she found it, that perfect combo which made her soul sing.

The moral of the story? Your heart knows where it feels at home. And it will lead you exactly where you want to be.

Because you deserve it, vol. 197.

Btw, Lasse exists just to distract you.

As promised, in just 48 hours you may grab your free copy of I Never Lied to You.

The promo days start on Saturday 25th and end on Wednesday 29th.

 

So get your favorite blankie, cuddle on the sofa and indulge yourself in lots of giggles.

I Never Lied to You cover

 

 

The Holiday Limbo

Right, Sunday it is. I guess.

I don`t know about you, but I am always timely challenged during the holiday season. Which day is it? What am I supposed to be doing? Should I go somewhere or stay at home? If I choose the last option, should I expect some guests? Do I have to buy some snacks and drinks for them? Clean the house? Or I should work on something and completely ignore the hype?

And it happens every year. Somewhere a week before Christmas, I check the dates and try to organize myself for grocery shopping, cooking, and baking, family touring, the inevitable rematches of family and friends, holiday films binge-watching… I have everything sorted out.

Oh, my master plan works fine at the start. Until Christmas. Because that’s when everything becomes some weird hazy mash-up between post-Woodstock feeling and Tim Burton’s story and I am utterly lost. Honestly, I woke up this morning thinking: “Right, so today is Saturday… No, Monday. Wait, it`s Sunday! OK, so I have to work tomorrow. But on Tuesday it`s New Year`s Eve which means that all the shops will be insanely crowded. So, it would be better to buy the drinks today, right?” I get dressed, walk out and then I remember that some friends announced themselves for this evening. This means that I should buy the damn snacks and the drinks for today and the New Year`s Eve. And some proper food. So, I drag home about two tons of food, a whole truck of drinks and still keep thinking that I forgot something. Which I probably did.

And I know that tomorrow morning I will be asking myself the same questions again – which day is it? What should I do? Where should I go? Is it over yet? Wtf