Tears

I wonder if anybody has ever bothered to calculate how many tears the average person sheds in their lifetime?

I guess it would be an impossible task . 

And say if you really could calculate a Lifetime's Tears, would you count the tears you've shed at movies, or when you've sung the National Anthem, or when you watched a Gay Pride Parade? Are they Real Tears anyway?

For almost my entire life there are two things that always make me Cry Like Clockwork - 1. pictures of Jackie Kennedy at President Kennedy's funeral. 2. Watching our annual Anzac Day March of War Veterans on TV.

I can also get a big Tear-Up if I listen to Martin Luther King's, 'I have a Dream' speech. 

 Oh, & I just remembered The Mother of All Tear-Making Speeches - Churchill's wartime, 'We will never surrender' speech. I'm now crying as I'm typing, just at the thought of it.

Birthdays, or more specifically, My Birthday has always had a Tear Component. I remember when I cried at school on my sixth birthday, a Horrible Nun said to me, 'Dear, if you cry on your birthday, you cry for the rest of the year'. 

Thanks, Sister Arsehole. That wonderful Gem of Wisdom really helped.

Hope you like my artwork.

Mad With Fame

I know I look like I've gone mad in these photos. 

And maybe I have.

But over the past few days I've been infected via The Mainstream Media with the idea of becoming 'Internet Famous'. 

 I'm now Officially Desperate to become a 'Fameball',  a blogger who, by Relentlessly Oversharing the banal & inane details of their  daily life, permeates their way into The Collective Consciousness rather like an Earworm, which is a song that you can't get out of your head even if you hate it. 

'Julia Allison', picture above is the Biggest Fameball of Them All Right Now, with the accent on the 'right now' because according to this article I read in The Sydney Morning Herald, you're only as Hot as your Last Blog entry. 

Golly Gosh, I'm going to be chained to the computer all Summer!

'Julia Allison' (not her real name) immediately attracted my attention because of her superficial similarity to Charlotte York in SATC, who I love in as much as you can love a Fictional Character. So I tracked down  her blog/lifecast/personal manifesto, nonsociety.com.

 And to be honest, I couldn't follow it. I don't mean to be too self-deprecating, but sometimes it takes me ages to work things out.  Like it took me an hour to realise that you didn't scroll down her blog, but ACROSS. And then when I started reading , I couldn't understand it. It was kind of like the time I tried to read Virginia Woolf's, 'Mrs Dalloway' aloud to my Senior Class & they just sat there blankly staring me. 

 I really should go back & try reading it again, Julia's blog I mean, not 'Mrs Dalloway', although maybe I could read both  together - One blog entry - One page of 'Mrs Dalloway', One Entry, One page & so on...................

How's that for a Novel Post-Modern New Media Reading Experience?

But Back to Me.

I was deliberately trying to Channel 'Julia Allison' in the first photo. But I think I channelled 'Julia's' grandmother instead, who is the Lady above with the Racehorses on her Chest. 'Julia' posted a whole rivetting blog entry about having lunch with Grandma which really proves that she's really just A Sweet Normal Girl. Or Something.

Now I'm starting to sound like a Caustic Bitch. I must stop.

But before I do, I wanted to point out why I was kicking Ernestina in the staffroom. It's not because I find her annoying. I was just using Her Butt as a vehicle to show off my Freshly-Thrifted extremely pointy shoes. I realise that they are a Far Cry from 'Julia's' fashionable round toe patent pumps, but I'm Nothing if Not Unfashionable.

 If you enlarge the photo where I'm channelling Julia's Grandmother, I would like you to Note Four Things:

1. The Animal Print Thrifted Dress on it's first outing with me. I plan to wear this on saturday night when I have another 'Date' with Mr. Ex-Middleaged. 

2. My homemade 'Dora the Explorer' necklace.

3. My matching oatmeal & faux gold cuffs. Talk about Faux Glamour!

4. The little nylon sockettes that peep out of my Ridiculously Pointy shoes. My colleague Goldie says that they are v. unsightly. I bet ol' 'Julia' wouldn't dream of wearing them!

Betty Bacon Goes to A Party

This is Officially Not an Explanation.

But I just thought that you might like to know that I've been Slightly Sick. Maybe a v. mild virus, with a hint of Existential Ennui thrown in.

But I've got such a lot to Bang on About that I Must Post Now.

The pictures above are from a House Leaving Party that I attended on saturday evening. The House that is About to be Left to a shiny new owner is a Serious Sydney House. That means that it has Views. The particular view that this house has is The Pacific Ocean which is fab, but not quite as fab as having Harbour views. I've been to a party at this house before, so I was thrilled to be invited to another one.

It's always a little awkward to go to a party alone. I walked up to the front door clutching a v. reasonably priced bottle of Merlot, found it was open & walked in. And There I Am! An unknown person is standing in the hallway & I say hi. They grunt & then I walk into the huge living room with the pool & the Ocean all laid out in front of me & look for any familiar faces.

I spot the Hostess who looks glamourous in a Long Halter-Neck Sheath even though it feels like Late Autumn again when it's Almost Summer. I am dressed Autumnally in a Thrifted wool-like substance coatdress. I'm Nothing if Not Appropriately Dressed for the Weather Regardless of Season. 

Then I spy an Dear Old Friend who's chatting to Barbara & Joan, a couple of his friends that I like & would like to get to know better. It's a great thing when you go to a party alone & then you suddenly see your friends. It's like arriving at a Safe Harbour.

I was so relieved & excited to see them that of course I immediately began Oversharing. I started to tell in great detail The Story of My Dumping. Every little Twist & Turn including important background information about our relationship going back many years. A Complete Stranger came up & joined the group, but that didn't stop me. I just kept going. I would like to tell you that after a while a small crowd gathered around  me, hanging on my every word, &  urging me to go on in even more gruesome detail.

Sadly, that didn't happen. Instead, the host's black cocker spaniel, who is deaf & blind, knocked into Joan & started pathetically whining. Immediately all the attention went to the dog. I was crushed.

But I managed to bring the spotlight back to me by loudly bragging to anyone who'd listen that all my clothes are thrifted. That's always a great Conversation Starter, I find.  Barbara revealed that her wonderful 'Prada' bag, pictured above, was also thrifted. I just knew that we had something in common! 

Vive La Thrifte!

Home Decorating Update

At school I've got The Filing Cabinet to keep me occupied, but at Home I've got the whole apartment. And I've certainly been busy.

The drinks trolley has been cheered up with The New York skyline. The large ceramic structure which combines a French Country Cottage & The Chrysler Building was made by my Step-son Stuart when he was fourteen. He's twenty-three today. I've been collecting the miniature skyscrapers over many visits to NYC.

The little Chinese Cloth Doll was a gift from my friend Marge. She's sitting on a miniature carved African chair which now sits in the living room.

The Puppet theatre is sitting on an antique cedar chest of drawers that was my childhood dressing table. The pastel portrait of me was commissioned many years ago by Mr. Ex-Middleaged. 

Inside the Filing Cabinet Part 2.

In yesterday's post, I revealed that I've been uncharacteristically clearing out my Filing Cabinet. It's been quite a Cathartic Experience.

All sorts of pleasant & not-so-pleasant items that I've casually discarded have been re-discovered. 

This morning, I decided to renew my clean out.  And I found more stuff- a plastic Captain Hook 'hand', a Bride of Chucky Doll & some more wigs.

I couldn't help but wear the most startling wig for my Wardrobe Photo.

And I couldn't help but show off my homemade Giraffe Necklace. 

Now that's one item that won't be spending time in The Filing Cabinet.

Who Would Have Thought that A Filing Cabinet Could Be Alladin's Cave?

Today I was full of energy.

 Not that I'm usually sluggish.  But I came to school, sat at my desk & immediately corrected five exam essays on 'Psycho'. 

Then I did something almost unprecedented: I opened up the drawers of my filing cabinet. As a rule, I eschew Filing Cabinets & those nasty dividers that live inside them. And I hate keeping stuff like Notes on Wordsworth or Lear or Arthur Miller or Ad Nauseum. I leave all that to my Hardworking Colleagues who I rely on to provide me with  the Relevant Teaching Materials on a Need to Know basis. 

 My Filing Cabinet is full of things that I have either permanently or temporarily discarded  - spare clothes, action figures, magazines, old debating trophies, wigs etc. 

Today when I opened it, it was Almost, but Not Quite like going into Aladdin's Cave. All sorts of things, both pleasant & unpleasant popped out at me.

A pleasant discovery was this marvellous  yellow waistcoat that I must have thrifted some time back that Princess Pip immediately pounced on & claimed for her own. 

An unpleasant discovery was a a load of smelly old Educational Pamphlets that had been silently rotting in the bottom drawer gathering mould for years.

As you can see, I  removed them, but not before my New Trusty Photographer, Goldie took a snap. 

 I'm Dressed for Action in my Official Faux Chanel outfit, including one of my own homemade necklaces featuring a cameo & the Number 5, in honour of Chanel's favourite perfume that I swear smells like Cat's Wee.

I thought that I'd lost my wonderful thrifted YSL flats that I'm wearing today, but they were only under the spare bed. It was almost worth the pain & anguish of losing them to experience the joy of rediscovery! 

The wonderful Faux Chanel top is a gift from my best friend Marge. She got it from our favourite shop, 'Anthropologie'.

I just had a thought: maybe my urge to clear out all the Old Stuff is something to do with moving on from 'Being Dumped'

As Enid Blyton would say, 'Hurrah'!!!!!!

Letting My Free Flag Fly

I'm still trying to come up with an Alternative Label to 'Being Dumped'. 

So far I can't think of a thing.

I did come up with 'Footloose', which does have a Certain Ring of Truth to it, but it just made me think of Kevin Bacon. 

And then I wondered if  my new label could be called 'Kevin Bacon' or just simply 'Kevin', but that would confuse things because our Prime Minister is called Kevin Rudd & everyone refers to him as 'Kevin'.

But 'Kevin Bacon' is the name of a person, not a State of Being or a Blog Label. Although since 'Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon', I'm not too sure.

I'd like to talk more about Kevin & how the whole 'Six Degrees' thing has been taken up by scientists who are using the idea as the springboard for Some Amazing New Scientific Discoveries, but I won't. 

 I've just had a Brainwave for the Name of the Label - Bacon!

 It's perfect. Well, at least it's better than Toast. 

So, from now on I'm Not Dumped, I'm "Bacon". 

Before closing, as you can see from the photo, I'm in a slightly patriotic mood today, as I'm posing with the Australian flag. Tonight's the night of the big premiere of the new Baz Luhrmann film, 'Australia'. Apparently Baz only finished it yesterday afternoon. 

Can't wait for the reviews tomorrow morning.

The Food Nazi

Yesterday, the Head of English bought a little pan of chocolate chip muffins into the staffroom & offered them around.

When she went out of the room, I went ballistic &  threw them on the floor, eventually tipping them upside down so no one would dare eat them.

This follows a similar but slightly less dramatic incident that occurred  last week involving the Long Dormant Candy Jar that someone had filled with little chocolates. I absolutely forbade anyone to eat any. But of course they took No Notice & now there are None Left. 

I sincerely hope that Everyone in my Staffroom  except me & my Loyal friends Trixie & Sue gets Type 2 Diabetes.

But I must say that my little  thrifted pink suede shoes look quite good next to the Muffin Pan. I wish I could say the same for the rest of the outfit. It doesn't look too bad in the photo, but In Real Life it was Far Too Big, creating a Strange Oversized Hourglass Effect. 

Or was it Pear? 

  This is a problem when One has a Thrifting Addiction.   When a  great dress costs five bucks & a blouse is $3 & there's nothing else in the shop to buy, you buy it, regardless of it's size. Leaving empty-handed would be unthinkable.

 But the great thing about Thrifting is that there's Absolutely No Buyer's Remorse. Once you realise that an item is Unwearable, you just put it in the Rapidly Growing Unwearable Pile & move on to another outfit.

I've just decided that that's the attitude that I'm going to take with Men from now on. As soon as I realise that a Man is Unwearable, I'll place him on the top of the pile & Move On. 

Bravo!

Flogging a Dead Makeover

I've said it before & I'll say it again, I've always been a bit of a sucker for the British 'What Not to Wear' girls, Trinny & Susannah.

It's mainly the Posh Plummy Accents. And their general Born to Ruleness. Both of them perfectly combine Schoolyard Bully with The Queen Mother, or maybe Queen Victoria. They're Far Too Grand to be The Current Queen, though.

My daughter & I loved watching their show together. It felt like real Mother & Daughter quality time. Every week they'd produce three woman who in anybody's books looked Really Awful. It was always a variant on the same basic formula  - Midget Woman with a Bar-Fridge Figure who loves bum-skimming mini skirts & spill-your-guts bodice tops is thrilled that she's getting a makeover & thousands of pounds worth of free clothes. All she has to do is to strip off into her undies & stand in front of a Reveal All 360 degree mirror where she suddenly realises that Her Bum's Huge. Golly Gosh! Trinny & Susannah stand behind her loudly pointing out all her other flaws but then they try & say something nice like, 'you've got great tits' (that is, if you're a cow).

It's about this time that the Pop Psychology starts. Trinny will look soulfully into The Woman's eyes & say Something  Meaningful about Low Self-Esteem/Body Image/Hiding Behind One's Whatever/People Pleasing/Putting Others  Before Self.  Everyone Cries & Hugs.

Then they go to The Woman's house & put all her clothes in garbage bags & throw them out. The Woman's screams of protest are ignored. Next, they give her a lesson about only wearing clothes that cross over at the tits to accentuate her only good asset. Finally they hand over the money & send her out shopping.

Of course she chooses all the Wrong Clothes. But just at the Point of Purchase, Trinny & Susannah come rushing in to save the day. They loudly announce that everything she's chosen is Rancid.

Usually at this time The Woman has a Dummy Spit.

'No, no,  I don't care what you say, I don't look like an Amateur Hooker. I look sexy'.

Eventually she quietens down & goes along with all the stuff that The Girls choose. Everyone Cries & Hugs.

The finale is by far the Best Bit.

BarFridgeMidget has her Cinderella Moment & comes out looking almost completely unrecognisable. Everyone Gasps, then Cries & Hugs. While there's this huge emphasis on the clothes, what's clear is that the real stars here are the Hair & Makeup People who toil invisibly off camera. It's amazing what a good haircut & blow dry & some decently applied make up can do.

I realise that I've written some slightly sneery comments involving midgets. I don't mean actual Little People. I'm thinking more v. short people like my Birth Mother who is under five foot & hasn't bothered speaking to me in fourteen years. 

I now also realise that I've officially violated my rule of 'Never explain, Never defend'.

Never Mind.

Anyway, Trinny & Susannah have got a new book out just in time for Xmas. Of course. 

I saw it in 'Borders' & decided it wasn't worth buying even though as you can see it's been severely discounted ($29.95), or are 'Borders' lying about the original price ($43)? 

I don't mean to be negative, but I think The Girls have Already Said it All & are now Flogging a Dead Horse, or should it be Dead Makeover? 

I must say that when I opened the book I got a Nice Surprise when I saw that one of their Real Life Makeovers was a woman possibly Older than Me! I was thrilled, but still not thrilled enough to buy the book. But I did remove myself & the book to a remote part of the store in order to take some illicit photos of The Old Model so I could post them on here. I thought that I was so clever until Princess Pip said at school today that I was probably caught on CCTV & when I come in next time they'll ask me to leave. 

In the first photo, Rosamund looks like a Really Fit but Safe Granny. Then they tart her up with the hair & make up & she looks great. 

I'm not too sure about the Boho Look. BohoSchomo I say!

From the Vault

My School Computer has over 4000 photos on it. And I must delete some. The Computer Dept has been bleating on about not having enough Storage Space & as usual I haven't been listening. I'm still not really listening.

But I've spent most of the day deleting & arranging & editing. Here's a few of my Absolute Favourites that I have  no intention of deleting.

1. Joan Crawford. 

Joan managed to turn her shoulders into a couple of Sturdy Bricks that support the rest of her with ease. She looks Aeronautically Engineered. 

But I don't care, I still love her. My favourite Joan film is 'Mildred Pierce'. It's got everything - a Weak Husband,  a Murderous Daughter, a  saintly daughter who dies, an Unprincipled Mustachioed Cad, a Sleazy Ugly Other Man & of course my favourite Second String Actress, Eve Arden. What more could you want?

2. Ethel Merman. A while back I seriously thought that I was Becoming Ethel Merman. Fortunately, it was a False Alarm.

 I have a favourite Ethel story that may or may not be true. Here it is. It involves the use of an unsightly swear word which describes part of the female anatomy. I won't actually say the word.

Ethel was married v. unhappily for about six weeks to another favourite actor of mine, Ernest Borgnine. One day, she had a meeting with a powerful musical producer with the view of starring in one of his upcoming productions. After the meeting, she came home & Ernie disinterestedly asked her how it went.

'Oh, he just raved about my singing, my acting, my great legs & youthful face!' Ethel gushed.

'What did he say about your sixty year old c---?' asked Ernie.

'He never mentioned you, dear' replied Ethel.

3. Doris Day & Multi-coloured Poodles.

When I was young, I thought that Doris was far too much of an annoying goody-goody to admire. But now I'm old I can see through the goody-goodiness & just love her. 

But what a Sad Life. All she wanted was The Loving Husband & the White Picket Fence. 

And what did she get? Undying Adulation from millions of perfect strangers, Nasty Husbands & a son who died.  I can't believe that Poor Doris is still alive.

Not Sartorially Repeating Myself

It's rare that I wear an item of clothing or jewellry two days in a row. In fact I can go for weeks and weeks without Sartorially Repeating Myself. 

Now that's Some Boast. But it's true. 

Come to think of it, I'm sure I could go for up to two months, perhaps even longer wearing a different outfit every day of the week including weekends.

I'm tempted now to scamper into my bedroom and count the dresses that are hanging up in my wardrobe just to prove to you that I could. But I couldn't be bothered. Anyway, you'd think I was lying.

I just love the fact that nearly all of it is Someone Else's Cast Offs. And that I paid something like $8 or less for each thing. 

Today I paid $15 for a pair of  pony-skin (hairy leather?) red 'Bettina Liano' mules. That's getting up to Top Price for me. And I did pay $49 for my polka-dot Melbourne Cup outfit of last week.

I know I'm sounding just a trifle Smug & Self-Satisfied. But I can't help it. Indulge me a little.

Talking of Smug, I couldn't help posting this picture I ripped out of 'Zinc' cafe's copy of 'New York' Magazine. I'm sure that Yana Kamps, the proud owner of this amazingly well-0rdered monochromatic wardrobe who's   sitting up in her East Village apartment is a Perfectly Nice Person. It's just that I'm jealous in a really sneery way. 

I really shouldn't be jealous because I'm sure I wouldn't want to wear any of that stuff.  I wear Black V. Sparingly and only on v. rare occasions Wear White because I'm quite dirty & have never developed Proper Laundry Skills because my mother never encouraged it. Maybe she thought I'd always have Hired Help.

Before closing, I want to return to my two wardrobe pictures. In case you hadn't bothered to notice, the Wardrobe Repeat was the Zebra necklace, which is a particular favourite of mine at the moment along with my Black Faux Chanel Necklace. 

Oh, you may notice the charming portrait of Norman Bates on the whiteboard. I'm currently teaching 'Psycho'. It's almost worth it to enlarge the photo to get a better look. But you be the judge.

Which of Henry the Eighth's Wives do I Most Resemble?

This is not a trick question. And it is one that most of you reading this would certainly NOT be able to answer.

I can barely answer it myself.

But I was pondering on it this morning in the staffroom while I was trying to think of an alternative heading to 'Being Dumped'. As I explained in my last post, I'm moving out of that phase & into another one. And I want to come up a new label.

I'm not sure why I thought of dear Henry. I've never been interested in him & he really doesn't have much in common with Mr. Ex-Middleaged. In fact, on the eve of his 55th birthday which  happens to be today, Mr. Ex has just lost ten kilos, a feat that Henry never hoped nor perhaps WANTED to achieve. 

Anyway, I asked  my Learned Colleagues which of Henry's wives I most resembled. 

The Duchess, who is The Font of All Knowledge both Great & Small immediately said, 'Anne of Cleves'.

'Why so?' I asked.

'Well, she got to keep her head which was more than can be said for her successor, Katherine Howard. And she also kept her heart because Henry never bothered living with her because he thought she was too ugly. He thought she looked like some kind of Mare.'

So far there's no similarity that I can spot.

But then The Duchess said that Henry generously gave her all kinds of wonderful Real Estate & she spent loads of dough on Expensive Gowns & she was happy & wonderful to everyone including Henry's children. Her only vices were a love of ale & gambling.

Yes! That's Me!  

But I still want to come up with a new label.

Bangle Madness

I was thrilled to see that the Uber-Young & Stylish & Edgy blog Facehunter has been visiting Australia. We Aussies just love International Attention.

Last week Facehunter posted lots of snaps from the streets of Sydney & Melbourne. Go have a look & see how we look exactly the same as all the other Style-Obsessed People in the Western World. But in a good way.

I just loved the whole armful of bangles that the YinYang Lady snapped in Sydney is wearing.

So I had to load up my arm with a few of my own. 

The D Word

After thinking Long & Hard for a good ten minutes, I still haven't thought up an alternative title to 'Being Dumped'.

But I have got an Update on The State of Play. 

After not hearing a thing from Mr Ex-Middleaged for nigh on eleven weeks, I finally got a text from him asking for a meeting. We met & I was surprised at how Fabulously Charming I could be. Being Dumped had clearly agreed with me.

 It was as if I was being operated by Remote Control by a Higher Power. Funny, sexy, cool, kittenish & wise with just a tinge of sadness. How could he resist me?

He, on the other hand was channelling Woody Allen - all nervous tics & tie straightening. 

We've agreed to see each other every week or two in a kind of Friendly Dating Scenario.

 We went out to dinner last saturday night. I must say it definitely feels weird to go out on a Real Date with someone you've been with for fourteen years & to wonder at the end of the night whether or not you should invite him up to your place for coffee even though it's really his place too. 

When I was telling my daughter about this I apologised & hoped I wasn't giving her too much information. She said, 'It's all right Mum. I got used to the idea of parents behaving like adolescents from watching  'The O.C.'  

Television can often be Educational.

After the Dumping

Last week, my friend Maud from Melbourne said, 'Now you're approaching the end of your first trimester of "being dumped", it's time to come up with an alternative name for it'. I immediately protested that I Loved the Label & had no intention of changing it. 

After all, wasn't that what really happened to me? 

And I absolutely loved the feeling of freedom that comes with not having to hide behind a whole Sea of Crap. 

Maud wasn't the only friend who didn't like the 'Dumped' moniker. Neither did Marge.  Other people clearly didn't like it either, but were either too scared or polite to say anything.

But the truth is that I WAS getting a little tired of 'Being Dumped'. 

So now I want to come up with a New Heading. It's got to be something vaguely positive & life-affirming but with a Slightly Sneery edge. 

I'll let you know when I've thought of it.

PS. Just thought you'd like to know that my Post-Dumping Painting is the wonderful singer, Miss Peggy Lee as Eve, you know like in the Garden with Adam & the Snake.

Dressed for Resentment

 Tuesday  was Melbourne Cup Day. It's a Big Yawn of a Horse Race that the whole nation is supposed to stop for each year. Every office has a Melbourne Cup Sweep & people flock to  Melbourne Cup Lunches. It's all supposed to be a Big Celebration of the Great Aussie Larrikin Spirit of getting Fall down Drunk & Really Boring whilst wearing a Bad Outfit.

In some parts of Australia like Melbourne where the race is held, it's a public holiday. But not in Sydney. And quite frankly, I'm glad. 

As you can see, I was at my usual post at the whiteboard. But I'm Dressed for The Cup anyway. If you enlarge the photo you may see that I'm wearing a necklace that I made myself featuring a painting of a horse.

I'm Nothing if Not Appropriately Themed.

The expensive shoe shop that every Wannabe Fashionista flocks to on the weekend that I  mentioned in my last post had cute little racehorses in the window in front of Hugely Overpriced & Impossible to Wear Follow Me Home Stilettos. They're the kind of shoes that Avid Racegoers totter down the street in after a few bottles of champers desperately holding on to their Precariously Perched Floral Fascinators & freezing their tits off because they're wearing dresses up to their arses & it's not that warm yet. 

God, can't you feel the Resentment just Dripping off the Blog?

Purple for Victory

My best friend Marge in Thousand Oaks California just emailed me & exclaimed, 'What, no Della?' 

Marge doesn't like it when Della is Silent because it COuLD mean that I'm lying on the floor of my apartment in a foetal ball after drinking some Weed Killer or maybe some Bleach.

So, I just had to Crank Up the Computer & get Ol'Della talking. 

And I've got lots to say.

I just couldn't do anything much yesterday except sit at the computer & later at the TV screen & cry. I can't remember the last time I cried at a World Event. Probably the death of Princess Diana, although I do occasionally cry when I see all the old Aussie Soldiers marching on our Annual ANZAC Day march. 

By mid-afternoon I was exhausted from waiting so I trudged home from school & lay down for a little nap, only to be woken up by a text from my daughter saying, 'Obama won!'

 I went out into the street & I could hear people talking Obama Obama.

 I stood at the supermarket checkout & heard the woman next to me say to the cashier - 'Say, have you heard the news? Obama won!' 

I would have given anything to have been crushed in that crowd in Grant Park & to have heard his wonderful speech & to marvel at the amazing outfit that Michele had on.

Speaking of outfits, I wore my newly-thrifted real satin purple shirt just for the occasion, as I believe that purple is the colour of Victory & Royalty. 

And I also want to draw attention to my shoes.  Please note that they are v. similar to the new ones that are in a stylish local shop that I walk past about ten times a day.  The price tag is $270. Except that mine were bought from the 'Beatniks & Bohemians' thrift shop which is about ten metres away. For $15. 

I'm Nothing if not Smug. The only Snag is that because I have a flexible attitude about shoe size if it's thrifted, mine are a little Snug. But I can still walk in them.

In these challenging times, I'm taking the advice of one of my heroes Simon Doonan, Uber-Window Dresser & author of 'Beautiful People' & 'Eccentric Glamour' who says, 'Dress up rather than down in tough times. You owe it to your pals, family & colleagues to present yourself in an optimistic and fabulous way'
I'm with Simon.
Expect More Dressing Up.

Broken Vases & Honest Blogs

I just love this image. It was an Complete Unfortunate Accident. These wonderful little vases have been mine for years. But in one fell swoop they were Over. A large plate crashed on it. Just like me.

The Honest Blog Award.                                                                                                   

 

More than a week ago, Jane, from workthatwardrobe

kindly awarded me an Honest Blog award. All I have to do is pass it on to another seven blogs. 

I still haven't done it. 

It's not that I'm Ungrateful. I'm thrilled.

But But But But But..........

No excuses. I'm doing it this week.  Oh, & I've found an Australian blog to award. Maybe I'm a patriot after all.

My Belated Contribution to Halloween

We don't celebrate Halloween in Australia. There's a kind of half-arsed attempt by kids & teenagers to pretend that we celebrate it, but it never works. For instance, two charming kids in my apartment building, one six & one twelve trawled the floors trick or treating. By the time they reached my place their little basket had a couple of Chupa Chups & two packets of v. bland looking Shortbread Biscuits in it. I, of course had nothing to give them as it didn't occur to me that it was Halloween. I felt a bit mean particularly as the six year old was wearing a v. large witches hat. So I overcompensated by handing over part of my prized collection of Mexican skeletons so that they could at least decorate their room while they ate the lousy shortbread & sucked the Chupa Chups.
Sadly, I think they thought I was Giving Them the skeletons while I only intended them to be ON LOAN. And I realise that if I knock on their door asking for them back I'm going to look a bit like Larry David in 'Curb Your Enthusiasm' - you know, incredibly petty & lousy & Scrooge-like particularly to children. So I'm just going to Let it Go or as my daughter says, 'Suck It Up Mum'.

The photo of shoe lets & feet is my contribution to Halloween. God knows, it's Ghoulish Enough. 

Let me explain. Shoe Lets have become a Small Theme in our Staffroom as Trixie keeps buying them from Ye Olde Wares Shoppe in a Remote Pastoral Location.  She's been giving them out as gifts to her V. Special Pals, like me. I couldn't help but include them with my own feet that are sporting a Disgusting Failure of a Pedicure. I found an ad in a magazine for O.P.I nail polish which suggested having a french manicure using black & white nail polish. 

What an intriguing idea, I thought. So I rushed off to 'USA Nails' & had it done. From a distance, my toes just look chipped. Up close, you can barely make out it's done on purpose but it doesn't make it look any better. They may as well be chipped.

And take a look at the little toe on my right foot. Enlarge the photo if you like. It's worth it to see that the toe is purple. No, I haven't got gangrene & it's Not Dirt. I'm not sure what it is. Maybe it's the reflection of the black polish.