More Unwanted Advice

 It's the last day of the Holidays & I'm on the fly, an expression that I particularly love & unfortunately don't use enough.
Yes, I'm dashing off to Canberra on the 1pm Murray's Bus. It takes 3 & a half hours, which is just long enough to listen to three of Alec Baldwin's 'Here's the Thing' podcasts (which I totally recommend, as if you'd ever listen to me) while I'm trying to block out the loud phone conversations of my Fellow Travellers.

I'm visiting my daughter Maeflower & her wonderful fiance & cat for two nites.

Talking of cats, Oversharing & Unwanted Advice-Giving Cat have been pestering me to have their say again.
I hope you don't mind.
In case you are confused, Oversharing Cat is the slightly creepier one of the pair who always wants to share particularly Narcissistic (don't you love how nowadays if you want to say something particularly nasty about a co-worker, you call them a Narcissist?) comments that make your skin crawl, if that's the correct expression.

Unwanted Advice-Giving Cat dispenses unwanted advice that nevertheless I tend to end up agreeing with.
I'm not sure why.
Must dash - got to make my Final Holiday Purchase at Bednobs & Broomsticks Charity Shoppe before boarding the bus.
Happy Trails.

Meet Oversharing & Unwanted Advice-Giving Cat

 Hello Dear Reader, We finally meet again!
Exhausted from the enormous effort of making my "If I Was" Video that sadly has only had 85 views on YouTube so far, I decided to have a Small Rest from Della.
But now I'm Back, all Shiny & New just like a freshly minted Bitcoin!!

I have soo much to Show & Tell &...Hurrah Hurrah!, I've got soo much time on my hands to Tell It because I'm on Holidays!
By now you must be getting a little tired of the Exclamation Marks.
So am I.
I won't do any more. But you'll have to imagine that everything I'm writing, I'm writing it in a wildly excited, high energy kinda way.

Like most people, I do love holidays.
Sadly, I'm still waking up just before daybreak, but then I just roll over & try to go back to sleep, or failing that, lie there desperately trying to remember that last little Disturbing Dream I had before waking.
But this morning, I hopped out of bed almost straight away & immediately headed  to the computer to see if I could get any Timely Advice from The Advice Giving Mallard who appears above, & whose advice, along with other memes such as Foul Bachelor Frog, Overly Attached Girlfriend & Misunderstood Spider I often consult.

Unfortunately, I didn't find the advice it gave v. useful. I have never in my life told anyone to smile, & I absolutely loathe it when anyone tells me to.
In my view, the only people who are legitimately allowed to tell people to smile are Professional Photographers when they are taking photos of people who have paid them to do so.

Anyway, whilst I was getting all worked up about this, I made a Sudden Discovery.
To my great surprise, I realised that I, too have a an Advice Giving Animal living inside of me.
In fact, I've got at least two.

Here, below is Oversharing Cat.
She just can't help it - always has to reveal embaressingly tedious personal details about herself to whoever is within ear shot. And always with the quiet assurance that only comes with absolutely knowing that People Are Interested.
My Poor Mother was like that. Whilst walking along the street with her or perhaps shopping inside a Department Store, I would pray that no one would come up & ask her how she was because she would always tell them in detail, starting with her v. sore bunions, moving up through her hiatus hernia & finally finishing with her persistent earwig or imminent cataract operation.

Next, meet Unwanted Advice-Giving Cat.
She's v. similar to Oversharing Cat except her focus is telling people how to behave.
It's a skill that's been honed over many years of sitting on people's laps & listening to them go on & on.

I hope you like them.
If there's any topic you'd like them to cover, just let me know & I'll speak to them.
I must finish watching Simon Schama's Power of Art Episode on Picasso & then hop into bed.
Is it just me, or have you noticed that every Art Historian or Television Commentator always manages to make Picasso sound like an Utter Tool?

I'm Not Just a Thief of Other People's Intellectual Property

Hello & Welcome to My Frustrating Little Life.
For weeks I've been making the above video as a little celebration for Turning 60.
When I finally completed it, I anxiously uploaded it to YouTube.
It took ages not just because I couldn't find the Upload Button (or is it Icon?).
It took sooo long that I rang my internet provider to inquire if I had Connectivity Problems, which I know has been a problem in other areas of my life, like Relationships.
But no, I didn't.

Anyway, finally it uploaded.
But then a Nasty Notice Appeared telling me that I was using content owned by EMI (the song, And She Was by Talking Heads) & that my video was blocked in Some Countries (which turned out to be two French-sounding places that I'd never heard of, no offence to the French).
I became Alarmed.
But then I decided to ignore the notice after acknowledging that in fact I was using content owned by EMI.
Mea Culpa.
For personal reasons that I can't possibly go into now, I totally loathe Copyright.
If you knew the reason, I'm sure you'd understand & not think that I was just merely a thief of Other More Important People's Intellectual Property.

But the Other Snag is that I can't seem to change the Syndication Settings for the video (sorry to become suddenly so technical) & now it won't play on mobile devices or iPads.
I can't stand it.

Above is a Deleted image from the film.
I couldn't work out a way to use 'was' in the sentence as all the other sentences in the film start with 'If I Was....'.
And  'If I Was Doll Hair'  just didn't sound right.
Also, it looks like I've got a giant Cold Sore on my bottom lip which I don't have but it was created by the Magic of Photoshop & I couldn't be bothered trying to fix it.
I do hope you can manage to watch my film.
I guarantee that it's Kind of Worth It.

If I Was Part 2

Hello & Welcome to Turning 60.
To celebrate, I'm dressing up as my Favourite Women of all time.

 I actually would have hated to have been Bette Davis.
What a life.
All that fighting & flouncing.
Although I would have liked to have said, 'Fasten your seatbelts, we're in for a bumpy night'.
Maybe I could say it anyway.
But I must say that I love wearing her eyebrows.

 Talking of eyebrows, I absolutely adored wearing Joan Crawford's.
She really knew how to Give Good Eyebrow.

Lastly, but not Leastly, it was such a privilege to wear the Queen's diamonds. I particularly enjoyed the tiara, although it was a little heavy.

If I Was

 Did I mention that I'm turning sixty this week?
Well I am.
I can scarcely believe it.
And what a time I've had.

To celebrate, I've given myself a v. special treat by dressing up as some of my Favourite Women Over 60.

 What would have I been like as Secretary O'State, Hillary, I wonder? I'm sure it wouldn't be any more demanding than having Year 8 last period on a friday afternoon or supervising a group of Year 7s whilst they're waiting for their Cervical Cancer Booster Shot.
One thing's for sure, though.
I certainly wouldn't wear Matching earrings & necklaces.

 And I'm sure I'd be terrific on The Red Carpet.
Except I certainly wouldn't wear Bright Yellow.
I look enough like a canary as it is.

But I think that, despite all the fab Jewels & wonderful outfits, it would have been a pain to have been The Duchess of Windsor.
Imagine having to spend decades of your life trawling around the major pleasure spots of the World on yachts & luxury liners accompanied by an adoring husband  who gave up his Crown for you?
Even if he was an infantilised whining toad.

A Yawn & a Snore All Rolled into One

Hello & Welcome to My Last Week As a Woman in Her Fifties.
Yes, hard as it is to believe, I'm leaving my fifties behind on Friday.
That Ship (or is it, Boat?) has sailed (or is about to set sail).

The question is, will I still be able to call myself, Middleagedteacher?
I do hope it's not stretching the truth too much if I keep it because there's something Quite Unappealing about the term Elderly Teacher.
But wait.........
Could there be a more attractive alternative, something I've never considered before?
Advanced Teacher perhaps?
OR
better still,
Senior Teacher?
There's something rather Sassy but Dignified about Senior Teacher, don't you think?
I'll have to ponder it.
All week, by way of Celebration, I'm making my Fellow Colleagues come up with Names of Fab Women Over 60. In fact, we've managed to have a number of catagories - Fab Women over 60, Not So Fab Women Over 60 & Women Who Will Be Fab When They're 60.
Of course, we've all come up with the Tired Old Usual Suspects - Helen Mirren, Judy Dench, Susan Sarandon, Hillary Clinton.
But I'm wanting Fresh Names if not Quite Fresh Faces.
You know, Women that don't immediately spring to mind.
And they don't have to be still living.
But I don't mean Katherine Hepburn. Or The Duchess of Windsor. Or Coco Chanel even though I would walk over wet cement for a Chanel Bag.
If you have any interesting suggestions, drop me a line.
And don't suggest Miss Piggy. She hasn't reached 60 yet.

Oh....BTW, the photo above is selected outfits from my Lenten Wardrobe Challenge.
What a total yawn & snore all rolled into one.
And....there's still over two weeks to go.

Trapped in Black

It's Monday nite. I've just watched The Fashion Police Oscars Special whilst eating a large bowl of lamb mince that I've tried to dress up by adding Moroccan Spices-in-a-Packet & pine nuts & raisins & figs.
I know that I'm Completely Off Topic (but as Regular Readers well know, this blog has a mind of its own) but I've come to realise that the World is divided into two types of people -
1. People who like to add fruit to savoury dishes & salads
&
2. Those who don't.
I belong to the first category.
I like nothing more than to add mango to a tuna salad.
Or team a red onion with a red papaya.
I could keep going. But I won't.

Instead, I want to talk about the first picture which you may have to scroll down to see. That's the trouble with the Blogger App, it won't allow me to sprinkle the pictures in with the text.
Anyway, I'm desperate to show you this Stop Worrying Road sign photographed by my almost favourite Still-Alive photographer, Tim Walker. I have it as Wallpaper on my new Skinny & Slippery iPhone 5.
If only all road signs contained more pieces of advice that I could quickly take heed of.

Like in the morning when I'm scurrying down the hill on my way to school loaded up with laptop, iPad, lunch pail & handbag , listening to Pool Old Whitney Houston belt out, "I Didn't Know My Own Strength" on my iPhone.
If only one of those people who hold up Stop Signs at schools could suddenly dart out in front of me with a large sign that said BREATHE, I'd be all set for the day.
I must give this some more thought & come up with more Advice-Giving Road Signs.

I've now gone on so long that sadly I've almost run out of steam.
And it's nearly bedtime.
But before I go, I'll just quickly walk you through the rest of the pictures which I assume are below.
Four of them are of me wearing the same old black dress or pretty much the same dress as part of our Lenten Wardrobe Challenge.
It is now Week 3 & there's still weeks & weeks to go. Already, we've had to remove two items from our tiny repertoire of items which brings the number down to eight.
The whole thing is unbearable.
Why O why, did I choose to go with the Sackcloth & Ashes Theme & wear black every day?
At least I now know why those Nasty Nuns who taught me were so cranky.
They were trapped in black.
It doesn't seem to matter how many strands of Toy Pearls I wrap around my neck or how many Toy Cartier bangles I wear, I'm still Trapped in Black.

The weekend however, is an entirely different story. Look look at me on Saturday at Bednobs & Broomsticks photographed with Brooke, a volunteer at Bednobs, who was so desperate to sell this Poor Old Neglected Bridal Dress that probably someone was jilted in that had been hanging around the shop for months, that he modelled it.
There's on or two many "that's" in that sentence. But I couldn't be bothered changing it.
Sadly, there were no takers. Must be jinxed.
I'm standing next to The Bride in a new Shades of Chanel gold & yes, black shirt that I bought from them earlier in the week. I felt like a Free Woman.

I must now hop into bed & dream of Advice Giving Road Signs.