Friday, 27 March 2009
I have been a little caught up in life once again. This lark with there not being enough hours in the day is getting a little wearisome. Och well, I have more important things to think about. Namely fringes. Or bangs.
Are there other words for the fringe? I don't know and I want to.
Anyway, I'm digressing as usual.
Here I am with my fringe, it does that flicky thing all on its own. I'm not sure why but it always seems to want to escape my eyebrows, maybe it's the huge difference in colours.
So, I have a question, this is my current fringe:
I have been tempted to attempt a fringe of this nature:I'm also tempted by a dress of this nature, but a new fringe is cheaper. And will grow if it doesn't quite fit your face.
I can't decide if I have the courage for a fringe as severe as this. Or in fact if I have the face for it.
In fact, I only have a fringe these days because I was bored and hacked a chunk out of my hair.
I raised the issue of a new fringe yesterday and my niece was adamant it was a bad idea and yet I am still unsure of this and tempted to hack further at my hair.
I also have always loved the idea of one day going raven haired, but I am fully aware I will look like the living dead with this pale skin, although lovely Ms Max up there looks pretty pale.....
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Thursday, 12 March 2009
THE Barbra Streisand. She's left film and music for a career in vintage clothing it seems.
Except there's a problem, (in my dream of course) she has really bad nails. They're really ragged and with terrible hangnails.
There's no way she can work with vintage clothing - she might damage the delicate fabrics with those nails, so she is refused employment.
It's not every day you can say you refused Barbra Streisand.
I love my dreamworld!
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
Both of these people feel the need to force everyone else to look at photographs of their children or pets, sometimes both, and agree to how absolutely gorgeous they are.
I think I may be one of those people, because, behold:
Look at those eyes! At this point, she's laying on her back, on my lap, legs splayed and stomach displayed. Which is the perfect position for combining both a tummy rub and looking cute.
I love her, I just can't help myself, she makes me happy.
It does put me in mind of this though:
It makes me chuckle, so it does.
On a less happy note. I have been a little lax with my dyeing routine and some roots have developed, rather disturbing to me is the discovery that a few of these roots are of the grey persuasion. I have been removing them with tweezers, which is probably not an ideal solution, but until I get to the shops to buy more dye, what's a girl to do?
Friday, 6 March 2009
It was taken in a process usually referred to as 'hit and miss'.
There was a lot of aiming and hoping that I'd get something. It's hard when you can't see what the viewfinder can see.
I'm bloody grateful for digital cameras, that would have been a roll of film for that one shot. Maybe two.
Anyway, my firefly and her bells are making herself at home on my arm.
My arm didn't mind the clingfilm for the last tattoo, this one, it had a fit, just decided after two days that it didn't like it any more. The rash is slowly going, but those little red marks you might be able to make out? Those would be my arms aversion to clingfilm!
- Mum and Tim are in New Zealand. They're vacationing. And they're blogging it here. Just to make sure you feel the envy. Although, the sun is shining and the sky is blue here. It's just that if you were to try flip-flops you'd risk frostbite. Damn it.
- I'm going to a ceilidh tonight. I've never been or seen a ceilidh where there hasn't also been an injury. To date the injured person has not been me, which in itself is a minor miracle, so I'm wondering if my time has come.
- I went in a chatroom last week, for the first time in years and years. I'm regularly complaining about the world of txtspk, I do loathe it so, but anyway, so there I am in the chatroom, receiving a few private messages. To be honest, over the course of the evening I probably had about 30 guys contact me to say hello. No wait, with just a couple of exceptions they contacted me to say ASL. Some of them didn't bother to say hello. Just straight in there with the Age/Sex/Location. Personally I'd have thought that the 'Lady' part of the moniker I was using would have given the middle part of that set of questions away. But it seems not. I pointed out that I thought it was generally considered bad manners to ask a lady her age, to which one responded that he had to check I wasn't underage. Which is a fair point, but it doesn't really excuse it, unless he also believes that each and every person on the planet tells the truth all the time. Hmm, I think not. Seriously though, what's up with that? No small talk? No, Hi, how are you, have you had a good day? Do they approach people in the real world and say "How old are you, are you really a chick and where do you live?" No, they would get short shrift. (I just looked up shrift and it wasn't a definition I expected). There's something about the 'virtual world' that makes people feel they can be less polite, that it's ok to just say "Hi, what are you wearing?" It's weird, because real world or virtual world, I'm not telling someone I don't know the colour of my underwear. I guess I'm just old-fashioned.
- Or not. I did go and get another tattoo after all. I am having difficulties obtaining a photograph. I used an assistant last night and his photographic abilities sucked. I have been outskilled in the blurry photo ability. On the upside, I do love my tattoo, which is a bonus really as it's never going away!
- I have a question about smelly people. Why do they always stand so close to you? I like my personal space, I do, I hate it when you're in a queue and they're almost pressed against you, but when they also smell bad it's just dreadful. The other day I stood in a local shop waiting to be served and a lady joined the queue behind me, almost immediately I smelt her and took a step forward, slightly turning to place my basket between her and I, to better protect my poor nose. This didn't help, I assumed the usual posture, free hand moved to just below the nose as you pretend to stroke/play with your lip and try not to breathe. I glanced behind me and saw that the lady behind the smelly one had assumed an identical posture. The people being served were taking a while, I toyed with the idea of leaving the queue, feigning having forgotten something, but maybe I'd be served any second, did I have time to stand again at the end of a queue of increasing length?
The thing is, the smell is so often of unwashed clothes and unwashed body. It's not a smell of exercise just completed, it's a smell that has accumulated for days and I hesitate to say weeks, and it saddens me. Do they know? Do they care? I think most of us would be horrified to discover that people around us thought we smelt bad.
- One more thing about people. The TV channel Living have been screening the original CSI, beginning from Season One every night of the week, it's not on till late evening so I prefer to record it. As a result when I sit down to grab some lunch or just chill out for half an hour and turn on the TV, it is set to Living, daytime Living shows a lot of Jerry Springer and Maury. I want to know, is any of it real? It is all fictional? Because honestly, some of those stories, they just don't compute. One chick: "Hi Maury, I'm here for the third time to test three more men, because I'm sure one of them HAS to be the father of my child." On this occasion, it was taking her tried total to 7. Seven men that could potentially be the father of her child. I mean, she's been wrong four times already, what if she's wrong three more times, exactly how high a number can she even achieve? It gives me the fear. I need soothing and reassuring they're all actors.
- I think I have an addiction to store loyalty cards. No really. My friend Harriet, my niece Chloe and I compare how many Dividend Points we have on our Co-Op cards. When I got my letter from the Co-Op telling me what I'd earned and how much of a bonus they were going to give me, I was genuinely excited. It has become like a competition. Harriet sent me a text to tell me she'd broken the £15 mark and was irrationally excited. I'm just pence away from hitting £30. I'm a terrible saver, but these points, which are, in essence, free money, well I take pride in them. I can't bring myself to spend them. I must hoard them, see how high I can make that figure. When the offers come out I'm there, getting my 5X points on local produce or fair trade, just so I can see how much more I've accumulated. Yesterday I got an email, telling me about my Nectar card - which I use in Sainsburys - saying I could sign up for more points, just spend £5 on fruit & veg and 100 extra points would be mine. There was also a link to show me what I could spend my points on. Now I have a Nectar card obsession, I have to choose what I can save for! I have gone beyond sad, to lands undiscovered. I'd say I needed to get a life, but I actually quite like the one I have. Even with its loyalty card addiction.
- This weekend is one of Lincoln's Free Weekends. It's a brilliant idea, you can visit the tourist attractions and get free entry. So, I'm heading to Doddington Hall with Rachael. Despite it being almost on my doorstep and driving past it regularly, I've never visited the actual hall. I was even there this week at the farm shop & cafe with Harriet.
She and I went to have lunch there, when we arrived it was a bit pricey so we weren't sure if we should stay, both of us being short of cash, but we thought we'd brave it. I ordered a Jerusalem artichoke risotto and was told it was gone but I could have mushroom risotto instead. As the only veggie option on the menu I couldn't argue. Harriet had a burger and when they came both meals were lovely, but we both felt overpriced. Our table was near the till which meant we could be surrounded by customers at times, so it wasn't a private dining situation. We're both cake fiends so we opted for dessert which was beautifully presented. We went to pay, Harriet handed over her card and I handed her half of the bill in cash. As we left Harriet swept ahead of me, I'd been intending to meander through the farm shop and have a browse but Harriet seemed to be in a hurry. She turned back to me and hurried me a little. We got to the car and she explained. I hadn't realised but we'd thought the meals were overpriced, then they undercharged us, so she'd been in a hurry to make a swift exit. Are we terrible? Sometimes I like to believe Karma bites you in the ass and sometimes it smiles on you.
The essence of this song is sad and you feel that but her voice still shines through.
This song also has, I think, a really beautiful line: "Forget about it, when forever's over, I won't remember how much I loved you anymore", takes your breath away. I'm such a mush!
Alison Krauss - Forget About It:
Wednesday, 4 March 2009
However, I was reading an article earlier on which is a little alarming.
One in ten parents believe fruit flavoured sweets count towards a child's five a day. Double that think chips count.
One in five parents think spaghetti hoops and orange squash constitute a portion too.
One in five parents also believed that oranges and bananas did not count as a portion!
That's scary right?
Well, it gives me the fear, but then I was the only kid I knew that ate kohlrabi, so maybe I had a vegetable head start!
Tuesday, 3 March 2009
I happily describe myself as a cat person, more than that, I'm an animal lover. I've always had pets from Bobby Flowerpot my hamster (I was young, I'm sure the name made sense) till Mifford today.
In between have been pets including cats Smudge & Lightning, chinchillas Poppy, Quaker, Dobey, Flip, Flop, rabbits Oswald, Goose, Edwina, Rosalind, Chish, guinea pigs Wellington & Fips, hamsters Blob, Chaffie, Chi-Chi, gerbil Jeremy Splodge, stick insects Edgarina & Gluey and a locust Jiminy. There was also Louis the Bichon Frise - but he belongs to Mum so not strictly mine but he lived with me a while, although I can't forget Delirious, a greyhound but she came as a bundle with my ex-fiance.
As a youngster we also had chicken and several aviaries with budgerigars, love birds, canaries, quail, finches.....
The point being I love animals, always have, always will.
And I just don't think that cat is ugly.
I think it's adorable. I want to take it home and cuddle with it.
Which is not something Mifford would approve of. It's safe to say she feels nothing but loathing for anything with four legs, and if you have feathers, two legs don't work for her either. And to be fair she did catch a slug once, so even a lack of legs annoys her. It's safe to say she hates anything that is not a human. She's a bitch, what can I say.
But a cute one.
This is a little known yogic pose: "at one with radiator".
I take a great blurry photo. It's a skill.
Monday, 2 March 2009
I don't remember adding this movie to my list but I must have done and I'm pleased I did, it was totally bonkers and really made me laugh and I found myself absolutely in love with this track from the movie.
Please Mr Jailer - From the movie Cry Baby
On the note of movies I went to see Helvetica last week. It was part of a World Cinema Season that I've mentioned before that's showing at a local venue. It's about the font Helvetica. I know right, how interesting can a movie about a font really be? Honestly? It was excellent. I'm really sorry that more people haven't seen this. It was funny and interesting, without once making me feel bored, or making me shuffle in my seat.
I really, really recommend it.
It also gave me a quote that I have fallen in love with:
Here I flit.
I'm asking for lots of good vibes to be sent to my little sister, Siobhan. She got hit by a van. While she was on her bike. This was not a fair fight. She's relatively ok, no broken bones and thanks to her helmet, no head injury. I believe she is sporting a number of bruises as well as a sprained wrist. So a few healing vibes would be great. Thanks!