That Saucy Bastard

The Ex, one.

When I wake up in the mornings, you may not be there. (these are my thoughts in retrospect)

That's because I know you'll be gone from my life soon; I just didn't want to admit it then, but I have no choice but to tell myself now that that was the truth of it.

I knew you would never become my wife. And I think that I will be right...eventually.

For you are still in my thoughts sometimes, even if for mundane reasons. It's not just the black lingerie you wore, or the camisole I bought for you, or the smiles and kisses and conversations we shared, or the barbed remarks that made us both angry and detest each other sometimes. It was also the sense of implicit belonging we had with one another. But that, in the end, was not to be.

Still, I could never forget you, even if I tried.

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The Ex, two.

There was a time when I thought I'd be happy. With you. But it seems we were mistaken, both in intent and in gesture.

I guess we found in each other some measure of solace for a while, both hiding away from the world they call the 'real', and denying our

respective, idiosyncratic insecurities.

But it was in so denying that we made mistakes. We were such a lethal, combustible combination. One hot, one cold - not just moments, but our behaviour towards one another.

Our time together was relatively brief, but explosive; full of fireworks, and not necessarily in a good way. We owe it to each other to make apologies; it was a pity that we didn't.

I don't think I could do it now, even if I really tried.

In the end, I can only wish you happiness, and all the best things for your life.

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The one that was never meant to be

I'm not sure what initially attracted me to you. Could it have been your large eyes, pert nose, or insane laughter? Or a mixture of all of these elements?

These elements were in themselves dangerous. Like water and electricity, like hydrogen gas and air with heat or sunlight. None of them were planned; all were spontaneous.

Reaching for you was like reaching for the impossible stars. I didn't understand the physics at work; the dynamics of lust and like, of power between a man and a woman, were just too difficult, and obscure, for me to comprehend.

And when I seemed to find you back on Earth - in my eagerness to be near you - I burnt up on re-entry.

I know I'll never find you again. Which is just as well.

I never loved you, I know that now, and I never will.

Sorry, nothing sexy about this particular Uzbek. At least not for this post. There's no catch in the title 'Dictator's daughter'.

The above photo is of one Gulnara Karimova, a daughter of Uzbekistan's president (-for-life-until-he-dies), Islam Karimov.

It is found in this article, 'Uzbekistan President's daughter: Gulf pimp or shrewd business woman'.

These and other reports like it are a few years old, but they indicate that this woman endorses and even encourages the trafficking of women to places like the United Arab Emirates (UAE) - given that Karimova controls Uzbekistan's Ministry of Tourism and travel agencies that control and allow the issuing of visas to traffickers and women, from her country to the UAE, to ply their trade.

I've been meaning to blog about this for a while. Now, I'm no saint. Goodness knows that I and many like me have indulged in many of these illicit activities. But I'm reminded time and again that much of these are due to state corruption and complicity at the highest levels.

And in this case, it's found in as high a level as you can get.

I'm not saying that so-called developed or democratic countries are any better (actually some are much better, but that's not the point). However some have at least better protection of its women (and men and children) from human traffickers. If the reports still hold true though, then Uzbekistan is far from one of those countries.

Read more here:

Trafficking in Persons in Central Asia: The Scope of the Problem and the Appropriate Responses (2006)

A friend sent me this in the middle of August.

I couldn't help but gawp at them at first -- couldn't believe it myself. But I think they're authentically from this contest somewhere in the US, for 'Miss 50' years old (as my friend claimed)!

They do look mature, but also in great shape. So it's up to you, any readers out there, to believe it or not. In any case, I've put the photos of more than one contestant in. Enjoy.

The incomparable Monica Bellucci. I thought of featuring her again after I came across an article on her not long ago.

The Italian actress speaks about the true relationship between beauty and talent, and a bit of herself and some of her films, in the recent interview here:

She has, understandably, given beauty a lot of thought. She's had to. She is arguably the world's most beautiful actress - even today. She turns 45 next month but looks more like 35 - not even the unforgiving bright sunshine of the French Riviera reveals any flaws.

Full red lips, "shapey" figure as she calls it, long straight ebony hair, taut smooth complexion. If this is what middle age looks like, then bring it on.

"I know that beauty invites a certain curiosity," she says, shrugging elegantly. "But as Oscar Wilde said, beauty is just five minutes long if you don't have anything else to sustain that curiosity.

"I don't think that I would have made this kind of career if I was just beautiful. Directors don't call you for your beauty but for your talent."