There's Nothing Fascinating About Fascinators

 Apparently last nite was Halloween. I thought that it was last friday. Clearly, no one Tricked or Treated or even Grunted around my neck o'er the woods.
The photo, above taken by Maeflower, was the closest I came to Halloween if you don't count the five or so houses I drove past in my car sporting windows dripping with Enormous Fake Cobwebs that only a spider the size of a rottweiler could build.
In case you're wondering what the photo is of, I'll now tell you:
They're a Little Gaggle of Witches Fingers Cookies baked by M.Flower in honour of Halloween. I wonder what the correct Collective Noun is for them?
A Wand of Witches Fingers, perhaps? But maybe it's fairies who wield wands & not witches. I'm not sure.
A Cauldron of Witches Fingers? That's more like it.
Sadly, I didn't get to taste them, just to look at them via iPhone, so I can't tell you what they were made of. AJ, Maeflower's Godmother thought that they were broad beans filled with jam. What a Lame Guess. My money is on Marzipan with an almond as a fingernail.

 OK, so we're done with Halloween.
Next up is the Melbourne Cup. That was  today. I remembered this morning as I was trotting down the hill to school when I gazed in the window of 'Booty', the local shoe shop & I saw the Toy Horses. Of course, I immediately felt Inappropriately Dressed because I wasn't wearing a Fascinator or some hideous Floral & Feathered Headpiece which would accentuate my resemblance to a parrot.
But perhaps you're From Outta Town & are not familiar with The Melbourne Cup. Every time I go to LA I'm constantly asked by any number of sales assistants & waiters if I'm from 'Outta Town'. How do they guess?
Anyway, if you don't know, The Melbourne Cup is a boring Annual Horse Race that the whole of Australia supposedly stops for at 3pm on the first Tuesday of every November. I certainly don't stop for it. In fact, today at precisely 3pm I was ordering two takeaway lattes from 'Zinc'.
Even though it's in Melbourne, Sydney likes to pretend that they're part of The Melbourne Cup too. Women all  wear Fascinators. Work places have Sweeps. And there's Big Boozy Lunches that go into the Nite.

This, above, is what I did today instead of attending a Big Boozy Lunch. It was much more fun. Note, I'm wearing a thrifted Real Diane Von Furstenberg silk wrap dress that sadly has a 'Made in China' tag on it, which Slightly Cheapens it for me.  The big gold chain that could be mistaken for something a large Boxer Dog might wear came from a Toy Mark Jacobs handbag. The scarf is a Toy Hermes. But I'm Real.

Shamelessly Copying a Design Blog

Bonjour & Welcome to My Friend, The Ex-School Nurses' Home. 
Yes, this blog entry is my attempt to shamelessly copy what is known as a 'Sneak Peak'  from one of my favourite blogs, Design Sponge.
I rarely, if ever mention Other Blogs. It's as if I'm Alone in my Own Special Section of the Bloggosphere, although I would prefer to call it The Bloggoverse. OMG, I just coined yet another term, although I can't actually remember what the other ones are.
Note to Self: From now on, You must, repeat, MUST keep Strict Records of any new terms You coin.
Bloggoverse sounds soo much more poetic than bloggosphere, don't you think? And of course, I'm The Abandoned Princess of The Bloggoverse, a Middleaged Rapunzel-like creature trapped in a doorless tower with hair that sadly isn't quite long enough to be used as a ladder for the Middleaged Handsome Prince to climb up & rescue her. So, she's stuck writing Blog Entries for ever.
Speaking of Towers, look above at the Gigantic Tower of Bangles cleverly made from an  Old Leg of a Chair that Ex-SN has assembled.

This display adorns the Long Hallway of her home. And most of the adornments are by Dinosaur Designs,  my Almost Favourite Jewellry Brand even though it doesn't quite go with the Toy Chanel Flight Attendant Look I've been sporting lately that I'm slightly frightened  makes me look too much like Someone's Mother even though I am Someone's Mother. And proud of it. But I still think of myself an an Ingenue.
 I digress. It's that Damn Blog Della. I tell you, it's always had a  mind of it's own. Clearly, it wants to talk about My Adventures With Aging when I want to conduct a tour of Ex-SN's home.
But I win. Because I'm Real & Della isn't. Perhaps.
Back to Decorating. I just love that little coloured 30's dish on the side. It's those little touches that count.

A close up of all the Jewels. When I saw them  silently glistening in all their Organic Flintstones Splendour, I wanted to quietly load them into my Toy Jimmy Choo Knapsack & take them home. But I resisted the urge knowing that if I did, our friendship would be over. And I need all the friends I can get.

I just loved the pair of vibrant Still Lives, above, painted by a young artist friend. Has it ever occurred to you what a strange coupling 'Still Lives' is? OMG, my head is suddenly swimming with Layers of Meaning! It's probably due to the fact that it's friday evening & I've been hard at it all day with 'Educating Rita' & Oxymorons & Hyperbole & Split Infinitives & I'm busting to get back to yet another rerun of a Poirot Mystery which I've got on 'Live Pause.'

I do love the little drinks tray with the blend of decanters, silver cocktail shaker & the 'Bombay Sapphire' gin right smack in the middle where it belongs. OMG, I totally long for a Gin & Tonic with ice & a slice of lime in it right now. But I'll resist the urge because: 1. It's dangerously close to my Official Bedtime.
                                                                 2. I've just rifled through my Drinks Trolley & I appear to be out
                                                                     of Gin & I'm certainly not going out in the street to buy a bottle
                                                                     at this hour particularly as I'm wearing my Toy Uggs.
                                                                3.  I am a bit of a Wowser. I'll swill San Pellegrino instead.

I was thrilled to find this wonderful Chanel box, below, artfully placed next to a mirror in the bedroom.
You know, if I was ever to get a tattoo which I wouldn't even though a Tattoo Parlour is conveniently located four doors down from my apartment building, I'd get a  'Double C' Chanel logo the size of a twenty cent coin just above the inside of my wrist.
Today while I was trawling through Google Images looking for an authentic Gucci heart shaped crest to compare it to the one on the Toy Gucci Bag I picked up from 'BednobsEtc' on my way home from school, I saw a photo of a young man who had a Gucci pattern lightly tattooed across his entire face which made him look a little like a Human Chess Board. That's taking Luxury Branding to a whole new level.

I've saved the best picture till last, below. It's again another gaggle of 'Still Lives' that work beautifully together. Note the bottom left hand painting which also has some collage elements, is my favourite.
Talking of Favourites, I must leave you with a v. short list of my Favourite Things this week:
- Isaac Mizrahi, the fashion designer said that no one looks any good after Cosmetic Surgery. I'm not sure if he's right. After all, think of Joan Rivers. But it was reassuring to hear it anyway;
- My New Fascinating Woman of Style is Jenna Lyons, the head of J.Crew who is all over the style news this week because she left her husband for a woman. Big whoop. But at least all the coverage of it allowed me to peek at her style which I adore. I now want to wear many more sequins just like Jenna so I can effortlessly combine Nite & Day.
- today was International Teacher's Day. They put on a Big Fat Lunch for us in the Boarder's Dining Room. I ate five different types of dessert & almost an entire vat of cream. And then the President of the P&F got up & thanked us all for caring So Selflessly for their daughters.
- Saw The Devil Wears Prada again. I so loved Meryl Street as Miranda Priestly. Today, over The World Teacher's Day luncheon, I announced to my colleagues that Meryl is the actor most suited to playing Me in The Movie of My Life. Everyone rolled their eyes but didn't bother batting an eyelid when The Duchess suddenly announced that Susan Sarandon should play her in her movie.

Unknowingly Imbibing a Truth Serum

 Beyond the Self
OMG where to start? I've left it that little bit too long & am all Sixes & Sevens about what to say & how to say it.
I know, I'll start at Beyond the Self because that's what written on that Big Building behind Maeflower which happens to be the National Portrait Gallery in Canberra. Of course it doesn't look anything like a place where all the pictures of the Most Important People in Australia's History are housed. No, it looks like a Storage Facility. You know, one of those places with long corridors with little locked up windowless chambers on either side where people dump & then occasionally visit all their Obsolete Possessions like Clothes Dryers until they summon up the nerve to actually throw them out.
I know all about Storage Facilities. Mr. Ex-Middleaged (remember him?) loved them. It was a way for him to unconsciously  dump all his Unwanted Emotions. 
At one stage, we rented three large rooms in a Storage Facility which cost a staggering $500 a month.Think of all the botox I could have had for that amount.
But I digress. What on earth got into me, I wonder?
M.Flower & me didn't bother venturing into 'Beyond the Self' at the National Portrait Gallery for reasons that I'm sure are obvious. But, at the risk of asking yet another Rhetorical Question, what on earth could it mean? Is there anything beyond the self? Perhaps I should ask a Buddhist.

Here's Maeflower again Cooking in Canberra with Flour. There are many wonderful things you can make with Flour. The Humble Eggplant, for example can be magically transformed  into The Exotic Eggplant Parmigiana  simply by a liberal dousing of flour. And, of course other ingredients which I won't go into now.

 I've just discovered that 'Woman of the Year' with Katherine Hepburn & Spencer Tracy is on. In fact I'm watching it at the moment on mute. But I'm being terribly distracted by Kate's outfits which are totally chic & tailored & kind of paired down which is a welcome relief from looking at recent concert photos of a rather beefy Christina Aguilera wearing No Neck & all Goldilocks on Fashion Police. But that's a whole other story.
  That's the trouble. Lately I've been far too busy watching Million Dollar Decorators & Fashion Police & The Rachel Zoe Project, & Oh, & the wonderful new series of Doc Martin where he has an adorable little newborn baby, to be blogging. And then  of course, there's SuperControlFreakintheKitchen, Donna Hay's, 'Fast Fresh & Simple' show which I totally recommend even if you're Not Australian.
What a  a Deplorable Admission.   I'm too busy watching TV to blog. And I seem to have no problem about Shamelessly Admitting it. Perhaps I need to not only consult a Buddhist but increase my visits to The Therapist from two to three times a week.
OH, but before I drown in a Steaming Pool of Self-Loathing, look at the photo of M.Flower walking along a concrete catwalk with blue water on either side.
She's walking inside a truly wonderful exhibit by American James Turrell. Oh, do click on the link that I soo laboriously organised for you to click on to. It will be totally worth it. I promise.  This was the best sculpture I've ever seen in my Whole Life. It's at the National Gallery in Canberra & is one of his 'Skyscapes'. If you are American, I'm sure there's a Turrell Somewhere Near You. Perhaps in an old disused crater, or in the desert or in Seattle or in San Francisco. I'm sure Darla, you've seen that one.

 Here's Mae gazing up at Something. The other people are more interested in what's in their camera which no doubt is what Mae is gazing at.

No visit to the Gallery is complete without Lunch at the cafe & then a visit to The Gift Shop. We both feel that it's a reward for doing The Hard Yards trawling through all the exhibits.
Note that I'm holding up an Unnaturally Large piece of beetroot which was far too large to fit into my mouth at once & since they didn't provide a knife, I had to nibble at it on the fork like I was a Hungry Mouse attacking a piece of cheese.

 Back in Sydney, I visited The Old Haunts, namely BednobsEtc, my favourite op shop in the whole world. I have a favourite sculpture & a favourite Op shop. Oh, & a favourite food. Corn Chips.
In the photo, I'm trying on a pair of Totally Real Prada Strappy Shoes with Towering Inferno Heels that I later bought for twelve bucks. I'll alert you when I eventually summon up the courage to venture out of the house in them.

 While we are gazing at my feet, I must show you a Fab Gift that my friend, The Ex-School Nurse gave me. Yes, Chanel  Cammelia Flip Flops. Oooo, I'm in Heaven. Sadly, it's not really hot enough to wear them yet. In fact, as I type, I'm still wearing my Toy Ugg Boots even though they are starting to feel a Little Sticky.
Not sure about the Blue Toe Polish, though. Someone whose taste I almost trust saw them & muttered something about Pole Dancers, but perhaps I misheard them.

 As well as receiving the Chanel Flipity Flops, Ex-SN also gave me a magificent Toy Chanel Bag in Real Leather which I haven't had off my arm since I got it. Early last week I took it to Lulu's for dinner where we lined it up next to her Real One. I wonder if you can pick the Real One?
 I also received another gift this week from my friend, Maud Darkstar. I will show it next time. It combines my Favourite  Le Tour Eiffel with My Favourite Obsession, cutting out. I wonder if you can guess what it is?

Lastly, here's me back at school posing like I've just won a Gold Medal at the Middleaged Olympics. I'm clutching my Real Hermes Scarf that I've oft mentioned  I bought for 17 pounds in 1974 when I worked at 'Harrods' in London. It's never been Dry Cleaned. Why  did I mention that? It's a bit like the watching TV admission. Perhaps I've unknowingly taken a truth serum.

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.

The Dreaded Rebound Effect

 Holiday Greetings.
On second thoughts, perhaps it's Slightly Smug & a little inappropriate to  wish people a holiday greeting when it's unlikely that they're on holidays themselves.  I bet you're not on holidays, are you?
I didn't think so.
So, I'll start all over again with a Greeting Guaranteed Not To Grate: 
Hello, & Welcome to My Holiday.
That's better. But as you can see from the Opening Photo, I'm not. I still appear to have hayfever. Or whatever you have when your nose is blocked & itchy & you have to blow it all the time.
How hard is it to sleep with a Blocked Nose?  Occasionally, I timidly squirt a little dainty spray of 'Sinex' up only one nostril & wait for it to clear. Rarely, if ever do I venture to spray Both Nostrils.
Why so fearful of Nasal Sprays, you may ask?
Because of the Dreaded Rebound Effect. I know we usually associate the word 'rebound' with rushing in with yet another Hugely Wrong Partner five minutes after you've just gotten rid of the last Hugely Wrong Partner. But it also applies to Nasal Sprays: if you spray too much of it up your nose, it actually causes you to block up just like if you stuffed a whole load of used boyfriends up your nose. That's gross but I kinda like it anyway.
Enough Toy Medical Facts & on with the usual  Relentless Cavalcade of recent photos taken just before & during this holiday.

 Here's me before the holiday. You may notice that I'm wearing shoes that don't match my Outfit.
So, what's new?

 Actually, they're not my shoes. They're Real Chanels that belonged to one of my student's Grandmothers.
NO, it wasn't Show & Tell.
The shoes had somehow found their way into My Student's wardrobe. Let's call her Coco.
Desperate to fund an expensive Gown for the Upcoming School Formal & knowing my great love of All Things Chanel, Coco brought the shoes to class. I had already told her that I would buy them if they fitted.
Sadly, they didn't. If you look closely at the photo above, you can see the outline of a Bunyan on each shoe.
I'm a great wearer of Other People's Shoes. That's apparently the cause of my v. own foot affliction, Corns. But I refuse to step into Bunyan Territory. I've got to draw the line somewhere.
I must, must stop talking about Ailments. First, Nasal Drip, now Corns & Bunyans. It's like I'm being funded by a Pharmacy.
Oh, but Poor Coco. Had to schlepp Granny's shoes in to school & then didn't get the money to buy her Formal Dress after all. 

 Here's another photo of the same outfit. It's taking Slightly Slutty to a whole new level. Which wasn't my intention. And it sort of looks like I've just ended the lesson with a great big snort of coke. But I wasn't. It was just the Hayfever. Yet another Medical Reference. I wonder if I can keep it up till the end?

 Here's someone above who has never been called 'Slightly Slutty. Queen Elizabeth . Trixie gave me this wonderful book of photos of her. I was thrilled. And of course I'm always trying to Channel a Queen. With varying results. I'm sure the Queen wouldn't ever wear a whole load of resin jewels from the recent 'Dinosaur Designs' warehouse sale like the ones I'm wearing.
I wonder what ailments she suffers from?

 I'm shocked that it's Nearly Midnite. This is unprecedented. And I've got so much more to Show & Tell. Like I wanted to explain why a patchwork quilt is laid out in my classroom. And who I was wearing. And what the posters on the back wall were about.   But I must must hop into bed.
That will teach me for not posting more often. I'm just going to to post again tomorrow after I go to the movies. I'm meeting Trixie at 9.30 tomorrow at the Multiplex. We don't know what's on. So, we're going to take Pot Luck. Talk about living on the wild side.

Nothing Like Tilda or Ryan or Ali

Hello & Welcome to My New Hobby.
On second thoughts, it's not exactly That New.
I've been doing it off & on now for some time.
Can you guess what it is?
To make it easy for you, I'll give you a list, below. You need to pick TWO because I've just realised that I have Two Hobbies - a Not That New Hobby & a Brand New Hobby.
Beekeeping?  Beer Making? Fruit Preserving? Quilting? Brisk Walking? Corn Removing? Scrapbooking?
I Can't think of any other Hobbies. Surely there must be some more?
Oh, Stamps. But I wonder if anyone does that anymore? In this age of Tweets & constant Status Updates, the Stamp seems a little passe. What a shame that I can't put a little accent over the 'e' & make it look like I'm really writing the word  'passe'. You know, like 'Passay'. I'll take any opportunity to show off my Franglais, .
Anyway, have you guessed yet?
That's right. The Not-So-New Hobby is Scrapbooking. Well, a form of Scrapbooking, like if a Scrapbook was a Blog Entry.
And the Brand-New Hobby is Corn Removal. Earlier this evening, I finally cracked & bought a packet of Medicated Corn Removers that Cushion as well as Kill (the corn, that is. I certainly hope that They won't kill me. Like, say the Special Corn Killing Agents ran amok in my blood stream & poisoned my whole body, not just the Rogue Corn?  Quelle Horreur!)
But back to My Scrapbooking.
I'm practising (sp?)   a Highly Specialised form of  The Art.  Here's how it works:
1. I relentlessly trawl the TV guide to see if any of my favourite movies are on. My favourites always feature actresses whose outfits & style I drool over. (e.g. Bette D in 'Now Voyager', the best makeover film of all time)
2. I  squeal with delight when I find a fave. (Sooo hard to find one amongst all the Adam Sandler & Sandra Bullock films. Have you seen  her in 'All About Steve', by any chance? Got to be one of the most insultingly annoying films of all time even though luscious Bradley Cooper is in it)
3. I watch the movie, pausing it (my cable TV package has this handy feature) to take photos of  Iconic Moments in Iconic Outfits & Accessessories. Like Tilda Swinton, above & below, signing a cheque at the Dry Cleaners in 'I Am Love' with a rather out of shape Hermes Kelly (or is it a Birkin?) bag nonchalantly sitting on the counter.

I adore Tilda. She is a Study in Graceful Gravitas.
How does she manage to be an Anglo-Scots Woman who can trace her family back to the High Middle Ages &  be in the same class as Princess Diana at school &  plays a Russian who speaks fluent Italian  in 'I Am Love'?
How does she manage to Effortlessly Cross Genders as she did in 'Orlando'? How does she manage an American accent as she did in 'Burn After Reading' & 'Michael Clayton'? And, most importantly, how the hell does she manage to have a husband & twin children who happily live down the road from her & her Other Partner, a New Zealand painter. Like Two Partners. At Once. And she's Not Cheating. Everyone's as cool as a cucumber.
I once had a New Zealand partner. But I didn't have a hubby who happily lived down the road as well.
I must, repeat Must, stop Comparing myself to Others. Particularly Glamorous film stars.
And I must, repeat Must, stop with the Rhetorical Questions. They're like a Runaway Train that no one can stop.  If one of my students inserts even the smallest of Question Marks in an essay, I almost make a hole in the paper crossing it out with my heavy leaded pencil.

Anyway, I thoroughly recommend 'I Am Love'. It was totally mesmerizing & terribly sad.
As a rule, I don't like to watch Sad Films. I've had enough Sad to last the rest of my life.  But it was a great pleasure to watch Tilda being Terribly Sad in a whole array of Hugely Chic outfits.
I must, repeat MUst start dressing like that.

And now we move on to 'Love Story'. It was on early this week.
Let me, just for a moment take you back to 1971 to when I first saw it at the movies.
It was the year after I left school. I was eighteen.
I swear to God that I remember that it was a rainy saturday nite. Maybe it was just raining in my heart. Anyway, it felt like it was raining.
I went into the city to see it with my long time school friend, Elizabeth. We were both longing for a boyfriend. At that stage I hadn't yet started going out with Bob, my first boyfriend, who I liked to call 'Blob' . Blob owned a white Panel Van which in those days was jokingly called a 'Shaggin Wagon'. My parents approved of him but were appalled by the Van. They always approved of anyone I didn't particularly like.

The problem with Blob was that he was nothing like Ryan O'Neal, which we all know now, in hindsight, is a blessing. But certainly NOt at the time.
I was desperate to meet someone called Oliver Barrett IV (Ryan's name in the film) who I would teasingly call 'Preppy' just like Ali McGraw did in the film. I would visit his hugely wealthy but dysfunctional family at their cold but impressive mansion & even though I was from the wrong side of the tracks, I would quickly win them over with my grace & charm & of course my Ali McGraw-style beauty.

I would work tirelessly in a variety of low-paying but worthy jobs  to support Oliver through Harvard Law School.
That was one of Blob's great flaws. He didn't go to Harvard Law School. Instead, He ran the Kitchenware Department at Grace Bros, Roselands, a suburban department store.   His family were from Norfolk Island & he was a direct descendent of John Adams who was part of the 'Mutiny on the Bounty', made famous by the Marlon Brando film.
Blob had a rather Swarthy Look. It was nothing like Ryan O'Neal's.
After about nine months, we broke up.   I went on to marry someone who went to Sydney University Law School. It was the closest thing that I could get to Harvard.
Bob eventually went back to Norfolk Island where he drove a Tourist Bus. Perhaps he's driving it now.
Luckily, unlike Ali in the movie, I appear to be still alive. Here she is is below,  bravely watching Oliver showily prance around Wolman Rink in New York's Central Park  because She's too sick to skate. 
Then they make that gut-wrenching walk in the snow to the hospital where she dies.
After watching 'Love Story' the other nite, I now blame everything on Oliver Barret IV & Ryan O'Neal.

Non-Drowsy Spring

 Hello & Welcome to Spring All Over Again If It's Fall Where You Are.
That probably doesn't make sense but neither would you if you looked & felt like me right now courtesy of Spring. 
All week I've been trying to ignore Spring Symptoms which involve Massive Watering & Uncontrollable Itchiness from  vital areas connected to my head: My Left Eye (it seems my Right Eye is above it all & has refused to join in); Both Nostrils & Both Ears. You can see the damage that Spring has done if you look closely at the Wan little figure below, taken today in front of a Plastic Container City situated in a Maths Classroom. You'd never see anything as tasteless as this in an English Classroom. No way.
Note I'm desperately clinging on to a clutch of Aloe Vera scented tissues & all my make up, particularly around my left eye has been eradicated by constant watering.
If you look below my Spring Infested Head you may just be able to spy a fab brooch of the Head of a Zebra that Darla sent me some time back. If only I had been well enough to enjoy it.

But I did enjoy assembling my Homage (pronounced 'Hom-marge') to Spring in the photo above.
Let me explain. If you've never been in my kitchen you won't know that I have a large statue of Our Lady Sans Hands sitting on a large green terrazzo bench. I usually decorate around it on a Seasonal  Basis. Sadly, the Easter Homage which featured chocolate Easter Eggs & Pipe cleaner chickens rather overstayed its welcome. I only took it down this week & Easter's been over for months & months.
Anyway, The Spring Homage is a combination of Real & Fake Flowers, which is by far my favourite way of Decorating with Flowers. It kind of sums up Life really - both Real & Fake at the same time. 
Because of course I'm practising (does that last word have a C in it rather than an S, I wonder) Abundance Through Frugality,  I only bought one bunch of Tulips that were completely closed up at time of purchase & placed each stem in a glass jar that perhaps once contained Pasta Sauce or a Slew of Artichokes.
I then covered the bottom of the Homage with the flowers from a Fake Hawaiian Garland that I bought at my fave $2 shop & then artfully placed the contents of a packet of Plastic Butterflies around the flowers.
And Hey Presto, I've made something that Martha Stewart would be Green with Envy over! Only of course she now must be busily ordering her Large Army of Worker Bees to gouge out the innards of large pumpkins in preparation for her Halloween Decorating Special.

 When I was leaving for School this Morning, Fotheringale, my building's Concierge who turns off the vacuum cleaner to  deconstruct my outfit every morning, announced that I resembled Joseph & his Technicolour Dreamcoat in my Patricia Pepe of Firenze cut-out jacket. When I got to school, Sister Anne, the only Nun still standing, strongly disagreed with this description when I told her. Sadly, I didn't wait around long enough to hear her reasons.

 Have I mentioned that I've been Uncharacteristically Baking Cakes & Puddings lately?
My daughter Maeflower told me yesterday by phone that she had never experienced this from me as long as she's known me. I think that she's relieved though because Baking Cakes in Middleage,if you haven't had a lifetime of doing it before, requires Reading Recipes & learning New skills, which of course has been clinically proven to stave off Dementia.
Clearly in my case it's working.
The picture above was taken in The Ancient Black & White Room at school yesterday. It was a  girl in my tutor group's 16th birthday & I made her a chocolate cake because I wasn't confident that anyone else would bother bringing one in for her. Perhaps I'm Overfunctioning?
Anyway, I used a recipe that my Mother left behind inside an old cook book. It involved using cocoa which I think is Old Hat these days. I think Modern Recipes use melted chocolate.
I had great plans to write the girl's name on the cake with Smarties. I tried doing it & discovered that it was almost impossible. I couldn't form A Perfect C.
Maybe I should watch back to back episodes of 'Ace of Cakes, which is constantly on The Food Channel these days.

 Oh, I finally cracked a couple of hours ago & toddled down to the pharmacy next door to get some Non-Drowsy Anti-Histamines because the Watering & the Itching was becoming unbearable.
I'm now feeling more than normally drowsy for this time of nite. And also a  bit off-kilter, like I might be leaning a little to the Left or something. And even though the itching seems to have turned down a few notches, my left eye is still watering.  So, you'll understand that I've again put in that photo of the Chanel Window at Bondi Westfield that I already used last blog post.
Sadly, it hasn't got any more interesting than last time. It's still a grey handbag made from a Reptile. My guess that it cost about $8000 which is nothing when you compare it to an Alligator Bag by The Olsen Twins that cost $89,000 that the Panel on Fashion Police (see, I can't write a blog without mentioning it) were scathing about. Who  the hell do the Olsens think they are, Coco Chanel?  Apparently, Alligators are Hard to Catch which really bumps the price up. Who knew?
Clearly, I'm under the influence of Non-Drowsy Medication.

I'm reduced to wearing flat shoes - these ones are Completely Plastic from 'Target' .
Pourquoi, you may ask?
DON'T READ THIS NEXT BIT IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH. THIS MEANS YOU TRIXIE.
I have Unbearable Corns on both little toes. I didn't know what on earth was going on with the toes. All I knew was that Something Bad was Happening. So, when I went to the Pharmacy for Non-Drowsy Medication, I got the pharmacist to look at them. She sat me down next to the counter & got me to remove my Pumas (even though I'm suffering I still went to Boot Camp. Hope I don't come down with Pneumonia tomorrow). Immediately she diagnosed Corns which she says is caused by wearing Other People's Shoes.
I now must see a Podiatrist who will remove a tiny piece of Grizzle or is it spelt, Gristle, which forms the Nucleus of the Corn.

  I'm getting more & more drowsy. I must hop into bed. Perhaps then my Left Eye will mercifully stop watering.
So,here's me in front of the whiteboard this week. I'm wearing Spring. The outfit above has a Slight Sheriff of Nottingham feel to it or at least what the Sheriff of Not. looked like in Robin Hood, a favourite TV series of mine from the 1950s  with its studded jacket.
The one below is like the Packaging of Gwen Stefani's Perfume, or at least that's what my student's told me.
Lastly, I can't stop playing the 'Glee' version of Florence & the Machine's song, 'The Dog Days Are Over'.
In my case, that's soooo True.