Absolut Bedtime

I have exactly five minutes to write this blog entry. And I'm not correcting any mistakeks.

Like for instance, the image aboe. I had Absolutely No Intention of including this in tonite's entry. It just decided it for itself.

It is a Recent Painting. I hope you like it. I love painting/collaging Really really nasty schoolgirls who are shameless bullies & snivelling victims. They are interchangable roles that I am quite comfortable playing.

I have Much More to report. But with two minutes left......

Rebecca kindly asked to see what I was wearing the other day. So here's half of it if you can be bothered scrolling down that far.. I can't believe I wore all those necklaces at once & no one suggested that I take at least one off. People are Kind.

It is now Absolut Bedtime. But I don't want to go. Instead, I want to tell you about how hot & excited I am.

Hot - because I've just been out in the hot street, paying a lightening visit to Paul, who lives about two hundred metres down the road. He called me & announced that he had a whole lot of 'Vanity Fairs' that he wanted to get rid of & would I come & get them. Like a shot, I was out the door, even though it was was way past nine pm. I wheeled my Elderly Shopping Trolley down the road, wheels squeaking all the way. Then, in a lather of sweat, I wheeled the trolley, full of mags back up the street praying that one of the wheels wouldn't fall off.

Talk about Life on the Edge.

I can't wait to get into bed & start furiously flicking through them.

Wounded Heels & Crushed Frocks

The Story So Far:

A middleagedteacher who has battled all her life with Envy, Rage & Resentment realises that the Key to Looking Powerful & in Control & perhaps even a few kilos lighter, is to wear High Heels.

Besides, she is Sick to Death of watching Other Women clacking purposefully down the street in their Killer Heels like they really really DO know where the hell they're going even though she has SOME idea of where she is going, which is usually off to school or to 'BednobsEtc' or to get a Latte.

One day, middleagedteacher bravely wears a Remedial Version of Killer Heels.

'What would be a good name for these heels?', she wonders.

'Remedial Killer Heels is a little too cumbersome. How about 'Wounded Heels'?

Perfect. It sums up the whole experience!

Pisceans have trouble with their feet. Or their feet are supposed to be v. sensitive. Middleagedteacher is a Piscean & so is her daughter, Maeflower. MAT has not until recently noticed their sensitivity as she has been far too busy focussing on the other parts of her that are also v. sensitive. Maeflower has had persistent trouble with her delicate feet. Gargantuan blisters, massive frightening cuts, scary bruises & perhaps the odd sprain.

So now with their New Sensitivity, middleagedteacher has to constantly protect her feet by wearing Comforting Sockettes.

Here she is above, by her desk in the classroom showing them off, along with her Faux Dorothys.

Another Great Story that Went Absolutely Nowhere.

I'm Crushed.

It's almost bedtime. And you know what a Stickler I am .

So-------1. Note more sockettes in today's outfit. Comfort & Safety always come before Beauty, I always say.

2. This dress, a thrifted of course 'Country Road' item, is a Huge Disappointment.

It's far too crushed. How dare it?

None of my other dresses would have the audacity to crush like that because they all know that I DO NOT have the facilities to iron, nor do I have the requisite skills or the inclination to iron.

3. I am teaching 'As You Like It' to my Senior Class. I particularly like the picture I've drawn of Nasty Oliver, who I've made look like an Elizabethan Humpty Dumpty. I always draw all my Shakespearean characters with a ruff. And pantaloons if they are male.

Craft Afternoon Delite.

I'm sure you'll be mightily relieved to know that yesterday's Craft Afternoon was a Success. Again, I didn't want anyone to go home. Mary, one of the Crafters, bought me a little bundle of Cinnamon sticks which I thought made a great gift.

Bed & My Lace Eyeshade awaits.

The Insatiable Quest for Authenticity

1. The Fashion Police.

It is Saturday Nite. Exhausted from my usual 5pm Saturday Body Balance class at the Gym, I sit on the couch munching my usual Default Dinner - A Tuna Salad fortified with Baby Asparagus & Avocado.

I don't seem to be able to go a day without an Avocado.

Lately, they've been as Hard as Rocks.

So disappointing & frustrating, particularly when I try & eat them. But that's a whole other story.

As I munch, I watch The Style Network's, 'Fashion Police'.

Joan Rivers & Juliana Rancid & one of those Kardashians as well as a little Style Goblin who often features on Makeover Shows are sitting around discussing Fashion Crimes at the Grammys which must have just been on.

Joan is hilarious & makes all the other people just that little bit more bearable. I now wish I could remember some of the things that she said, although I do remember that the panel discussed the fact that Heidi Klum never wears undies even though her dresses are Butt-Skimming.

I too, went through that stage.

Anyway, the photo above of Mitch, who works at 'BednobsEtc', is an example of A Fashion Crime.

Mitch is modelling a dress that must have had a past life as a large curtain for a bay window. It was labelled a Size 10 (perhaps a size 6 in the US). Someone must have liked it though, because it was gone this morning.

No one could look good in that dress. Not even Kate Moss. Or Even Heidi Klum.

Mitch treats me like I'm a v. wealthy Dowager who needs cheering up.

This morning he was out the back sorting clothes when I arrived. I'd been there about fifteen minutes & the Pickings were Slim. There was a Very Real Possibility that I might go home Empty Handed. Quelle Horreur!

I was desperately trying to imagine what an Ascended Master might do in a similar situation when Mitch appeared & casually asked, 'Have you found the 'Ferragamo' bag yet?'

Immediately, my Flight/Fight Mechanism swung into action.

Heart pounding & Palms sweating, I raced to the Bag Section & frantically began searching.

Of course it wasn't there.

Jane, the sales assistant was summoned.

'I don't remember selling it', she said.

That's right. A totally- out- of- it Junkie with a great eye for Designer Labels had snuck in & stolen it.

'Let it Go', the Ascended Master inside me commanded.

Ten minutes later while I was still relentlessly trawling through the racks, Mitch appeared dangling the bag from his Pinkie.

'Will this do, Madam?' he inquired.

For once, I really did feel like an Ascended Master.

But then the doubt inevitably arose.

'Is it real?' I asked all & sundry whilst closely examining the stitching for telltale shoddiness.

At least six people, all experts in their field, surveyed the bag . But no one, including myself, could decide. I think I'll just say that it is.

Ah....The Insatiable quest for Authenticity.

2. A Postscript.

Do you remember that I mentioned that in a bid to closely resemble Holly Golightly in 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' I was thinking of experimenting with Eye Shades?

Well, I actually bought some. Only five bucks. Reduced from maybe thirty bucks. From the Gift Shop at the Rupert Bunny Exhibition at the Art Gallery.

It's v. strange what they sell at these places. I personally couldn't remember seeing any eye shades in any of Bunny's paintings, but perhaps I wasn't looking hard enough.

3. Lastly.

Please note that the Teddy Bear that my Grandfather bought for me as a Coming- Home- from- The- Orphanage Gift when I was two weeks old is wearing the new eye shades. Teddy has been a v. faithful companion to me for all of my life.

Shame about the Human Teddys.

4. Lastly lastly.

Please also note the Patchwork bedspead that I bought in Bali for twenty bucks & carried home in my Carry On Only Luggage. What a shopper. What a traveller.

Who else do you know that can take ONLY Carry On Luggage on an overseas trip & still come back with Bedspreads & Napery as well as a whole load of Wooden Items ?

Simply Scads to Say

1. Welcome to my Bali Shrine.

I suppose I really should get off Bali, but I just can't help milking it for as long as I can.

And you know, its not as if I haven't got anything else to tell you.

I've got Simply Scads of Stuff to Say.

Like, how hot its been. Or how I'm experimenting with wearing Eye Shades to bed so I can be more like Holly Golightly in 'Breakfast at Tiffanys'.

Or how I'd really like to wear my hair in a French Roll just like Holly G. again, but I don't know how .

Or the Craft Afternoon I'm hosting on Sunday. I know its sounds a little twee, but sitting around with a group of perhaps other women who are all engaged in some kind of artistic/crafty endeavour makes me long to join The Amish. Not that I could really stand to because I absolutely would not be able to wear The Outfits.

This will be my fourth Craft Afternoon. Their beauty is that you don't have to particularly like any of the other people or indeed have much in common with them, but for some reason it just Works Like Magic. I never want to leave or for anyone to go home & could happily continue Crafting & slurping cups of tea & idly chatting for ever.

No wonder women for thousands of years Quilted or Pickled together.

I'd love Dinner Parties to be more like Craft Afternoons. Between courses, guests could take out their Special Little Projects & work on them. I bet the conversation would flow more easily.

Anyway, DO look at my shrine.

Take a Moment to Marvel at the wooden Ornamental Prawn Napkin Holders that feature prominently & the rather frightening God (Garuda?) who is sporting an Extra Eye in between his wings.

2. A Slight Beauty Note.

In Bali, Jenny never went out the door without using her Hair Straightener which she purchased at the airport for ten bucks. Talk about value for money! She claims to have Disobedient Hair that has to be Strictly Disciplined with the modern hair version of the Cat 'O Nine Tails.

I, of course didn't avail myself of The Straightener as I'm always desperate to be mistaken for Goldie Hawn. Which is perhaps a little inflated of me.

In the picture below, 'No 6 Black Bali Ensemble', my hair is wet which explains its Rat Like Appearance.
3. Frog Bathing.

I do so love this picture, as none of my middleaged crepery or dimples or whatever they are are visible. If you don't know what I'm talking about, don't worry, you will one day.

Anyway, this photo reminds me of all the Body Balance classes that I've attended over the past couple of years.

Last week, Kieran, my almost favourite instructor said something that still rings in my ear & I would like to share it with you.

We were all lying on the floor with our legs at ninety degrees for the Pilates section of the class. Kieran then instructs us to 'squeeze your butt cheeks together sooo hard that you could crack a walnut between them'.

Gross but Effective.

I Always Wanted to be with Steve & To Look Like Faye But Not Now

Decorative Windmills of My Mind

1. An Official Certificate of Authenticity.

Here I am back Yet Again in the Classroom for Another Year.

I am reminded of a Song. 'Windmills of Your Mind'.

Like a circle in a spiral

Like a wheel within a wheel

Never ending or beginning,

On an ever spinning wheel

As the images unwind

Like the circle that you find

In the windmills of your mind

I was never a great fan of this song even though it featured prominently in the Steve McQueen/Faye Dunaway version of 'The Thomas Crown Affair' & I was desperate to be with Steve & to look & act like Faye.

And Dusty sang it too.

It was just a little too clever for me. And anyway at the time, how could it compete with The 1910 Fruitgum Company's version of '1-2-3 Red Light'?

But now it seems Strangely Apt. I'll let you guess why.

If you look closely at me you perhaps will notice that I'm wearing glasses. Multifocals in fact. Prada too. I even have a Certificate of Authenticity to prove it.

I would now like to say something like, 'Wouldn't it be great if all Prospective Partners could come with a Certificate of Authenticity?' but I don't know how I would say it without sounding a little too Wistfully World Weary. So I won't.

2. I have decided that the Houndstooth Dress I'm wearing Has to Go. It had its last airing today.

Goodbye & Goodluck, you Dog of a Dress!

3. My hair looks Perhaps Greasy or Even Unkempt.

Let me explain. This morning it was raining v. heavily when I awoke. I opened up the inadequate blinds & laid in bed marvelling at the large drops. Then I rushed around like a Whirling Dervish & got ready. I rapidly ate two 'WeetBix' & nearly choked on three Fish Oil Capsules which are supposed to aid rehydration. I skipped out the door & into the lift forgetting about the rain & the need for an umbrella.

When I got to the front door of my building I made an Executive Decision NOT to go back & get my umbrella.

'I'll run between the raindrops!' I gaily said to myself. By the time I walked the two hundred metres down the hill & inside the school gates, I was drenched.

3. I think that the purple flower is a mistake.

4. The Rupert Bunny Show. But I would rather call him Lapin.

Here I am later today at the Art Gallery which I attended with my great friends & colleagues, Trixie & The Other Sue. You may note that I've changed. I couldn't stand the Houndstooth against my Sensitive Skin for another moment. So I popped into 'BednobsEtc' & bought what actually turned out to be a Genuine Silk 'Gap' skirt. Sadly, There are NO Gap stores in Australia. Nor are there any H&Ms either. Or Zaras. Or Banana. But because 'BednobsEtc' is a Magical Place, it seems to have absolutely no difficulty in having plenty of these brands. In fact, I have a whole wardrobe full of them.

BTW, Rupert Bunny was an Australian Artist who v. wisely went to live in Paris for a long time where he did his best work. That was in the late nineteenth century. When he eventually came back home after 1911, his work went to the pack.

Not that I'm saying that Australia stifles creativity. Never.

5. Lastly.

I've been buying Many Dresses at 'BednobsEtc'. Some look good. Some are a little questionable.

A bit like Life Really.

Oh God, not more WistfulWorldWeariness.

Middleagedancing

Look look look at me. I'm actually Talking & Moving All at Once. But for only about 54 seconds. So it's Bearable. Just.

In fact I'm Dancing. The luxurious length of the corridor of the Hotel Room in Bali combined with the Baby Boomer-Oriented music from the iPod that was generously provided, moved me to dance. But that wasn't the only reason.

I was dancing to prove a point. Lately I have become aware of a phenomenon which I like to call 'Middleagedancing', where a Middleagedwoman (I've never seen a man do it) will spontaneously Dance in Public. Like when some guitar combo plays 'Take Me to The River' on a saturday morning at the Faux Organic Markets at the local park & suddenly a woman in a linen shirt & three quarter pants starts dancing & perhaps singing at the same time just like she did at the 'Talking Heads' concert at the Hordern Pavilion in Sydney back in 1983. To this woman, Time Has Stood Still. But not to everyone else around her.

My daughter Maeflower is also Highly Sensitive to Middleagedancing. Whilst we were at the Peak of our Xmas Shopping Frenzy last December, she left me fondling the jewels in 'Diva' at Bondi Westfield to go next door to 'Cotton On',which oddly enough sells supposedly cotton garments to Youngish Folk. Five minutes later she came rushing back & announced that a middleagedwoman was suddenly dancing in 'Cotton On' because the shop was playing Bowie's 'Rebel Rebel'. The woman wouldn't stop even though she had a bored husband & an embarressed adolescent son in tow.

In hearing this, I felt smug. I would Never Dance in Public & embarrass my daughter. I am far Too Dignified.

Anyway, I hope you watch me dancing to The Commitments singing 'Try a Little Tenderness' which has got to be one of my favourite songs. I seem to remember that a wonderful actor who went Absolutely Nowhere sung it to Molly Ringwald in one of her Teen Movies which I was addicted to in the eighties even though by then I was over thirty. I wonder if anyone remembers the movie. Maybe 'Sixteen Candles'.