The Euphoria You Can Only Get From The Promise of a New You

 Yes, that's right, I went to see Crazy Stupid Love with my great friend Trixie. Look above at the Commemorative Photo Tableau I especially made to celebrate my viewing using Copyright Protected Toy Story 3 Action Figures. Oh, Dear Reader, if only you knew how Copyright has Ruled My World in O so many ways over the past twenty years!
But I digress......
I would love  to launch into a full scale review of the film but I'm not sure if you would like it. Besides, I'm in Canberra sitting in my daughter's apartment waiting for her to finish making me Eggplant Parmagiana. I'm starving & I wish she would hurry up.   Plus she's got Music on which is kind of distracting me. So, I'll just make a couple of points about the film in a Stream of Consciousness style, using one Giant sentence. Here goes:
I loved the film because it used my Favourite Subject, love, to tell a  story that was both simple & complex at the same time with a genuine plot twist towards the end that I didn't see coming & featuring a wonderful ensemble cast  except for Julianne Moore who I have never forgiven since she made The Hours( & then of course there was the Inexplicably Unforgivable The Kids Are All Right which I'm sure was once a song by The Who).
Sadly, I am defeated. I could see no alternative but to insert that Full Stop after the brackets. I simply couldn't find a way to put the bit in about how I loved Steve Carell & think he's an inspired Romantic Lead for a Middleageteacher in spite of the fact that there appears to be a little too much space between his rather prominent nose & where his mouth starts in the sentence.
Oh, & Ryan Gosling, who has a Photoshopped-in-Real-Life body as well as a wonderful head. His character surely was partly based on Jerry Lewis's Mr Hydesque Buddy Love in the original version of The Nutty Professor. If you don't know what I'm talking about, click the link & see it for yourself. You won't be disappointed.
Sadly again, I  first saw The Nutty Professor just at the time when I was mentally forming my idea of  The Perfect Man. I can't tell you what horrors that led to.

Let's change the subject. Like many women, every time I want to Drastically Change My Mood, I go shopping. It works every time, but I can't exactly tell you What it changes my mood into. Perhaps  the kind of Euphoria that you can only get from the promise of A New You. Or me. Or us.
Anyway, on the first Official Day of the School Holidays, Trixie & me went to the aptly named Supacenta. Why bother using all those silly unnecessary e's & r's when there's the promise of a New Supa You as soon as you get off the escalator?
We ostensibly went to look at Beds. But that didn't last long. NO, we were far too distracted by the Window Displays. Look, above. I couldn't help but quietly take this photo of the window of a large shop I swear was called 'Dare'. I'm not sure how many Shades of Wrong this tableau is - is it the colours, or the fact that the chair looks like it's been spray painted & spray painted chairs are never inviting because they look like you'd slide off them, or is it the juxtaposition of Two Jarring Icons - the Chrysler Building & Marilyn? Why not a banana & The Chrysler Building? Or is it simply because it looks like the interior of a Brothel in Disneyland?   And let's face it, Brothel Chic is never going to take the place of Tuscan Farmhouse or Escape to Provence as a preferred decorating style.

But there was another shop that we liked. I can't tell you what it's called but it was a kind of Poor Man's Country Trader. Country Trader is a large Polished Concrete Emporium located in a previously Industrial suburb of Sydney that looks like the entire contents of a huge French Chateau have been unloaded into it. Prices start at $995.00 for a cement door stop in the shape of a frog.
Anyway, this shop in the Supacenta is a kind of Cheap Copy. Which is totally up my alley. Probably the most expensive thing in  it cost the price of the frog door stop at Country Trader.
I took this covert photo on my iPhone of one of the pictures on the wall of a wonderful bedroom display featuring Marie-Antoinette. In fact, Poor Old M-A was all over the shop - on tapestry cushions, on large Toy Alabaster Busts, on bed linen & of course Toy Paintings & Engravings. I was entranced & immediately wanted to race home & throw out everything in my bedroom including all my old rotting dolls & fill it with her.
Of course you know that she didn't make that crack about the cakes after all. And she was a Real Trouper about being carted off to the Guillotine.So, perhaps not a bad person to have on your wall. Or pillow.

This blog post seems to be about Decorating. I certainly didn't plan it that way.
Look above at a Real Million Dollar Decorator. Her name is Mary McDonald & she features on my new favourite show, Million Dollar Decorators which follows the new season of The Rachel Zoe Project on the Lifestyle Channel. It's one of those Reality TV formulas that successfully combines Disgusting Over-Consumption with Toy Tantrums & Faux Drama. I love it.
Each week when I watch it (actually I've only seen it twice) I wonder what the decorators would do with my apartment. Probably throw out the rotting dolls. But then they'd do something unexpected like suspend a Vintage Rowing Boat from the ceiling of my bedroom, just above the bed so I could spend the nite imagining it crashing on me. And throw down a huge Real Zebra skin rug featuring the skin & the tufts of ten zebras so I could feel like I'm On Safari in Beverly Hills.
Can't wait for the next episode.

It seems that I'm done with decorating. Thank God.
Here's something much much closer to my Heart. Here I am with Maeflower this past Long Weekend just after we, along with Russell, her partner had shovelled in Enormous Quantities of Authentic Chinese Dumplings. No wonder we look a little flushed.
And the weather in Canberra seems to be blowing straight in from Antarctica even though it's supposed to be Spring.
Of course I'm dressed in my favourite Middleagedteacher Snow Matron outfit featuring many uncomfortable layers of synthetic fabric that did nothing to dispel the chill.