It's so unreal...

My friends (I tend to call such whoever suffers my ramblings for any amount of time) often tell me your life is so weird you should write a book. Well, being environmentally-conscious, I decided against having trees felled to satisfy my narcissistic urges in favour of going the Internet way, although I wouldn't bet that whatever goes between my fingers here on the keyboard and you reading these words doesn't have an even worse impact on the environment. No kidding. "They" say there is nothing like a free lunch. Chances are "they" are right once again. Take my word for it: I am often the one ending with the bill at the end of the meal.

To begin with, I'm a very unreal being. Verging on the virtual. Almost. Remove 6ft2 of a 38 year old slim and honey-skinned personable woman and you have your virtual being.

What's so unreal about it is that, in this time and age, my self-description is absolutely true. That's when life becomes difficult for me to comprehend: I discover that seemingly simple things like truth have a relative aspect to them and that whatever is valid in one environment may be completely irrelevant in another. It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't belong to two very different cultures and, even worse, if I didn't insist on living in the one I didn't grow up in.

Well, that's me in a nutshell: I'm in a muddle, trying to find the way out and stubbornly refusing to grasp the obvious pole out of my self-inflicted pond.

It has its good side: I learn a lot. The other side of the coin is, there is no safe ground anywhere around me. I just have to waddle through, knowing I'll get wet, hoping I won't drown in quicksand.

Having sketched the context of my hectic and exhausting life, it's time to tell you see you soon for more about my good and bad experiences, and everything in between...