notes from eleanor bloom

On the move

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Fri, 30 Oct 2009 05:03:00 +0000

Awfully sorry for my lack of blogging (although I'm sure no one else is). I've been preoccupied with a) the decision to sell my home, b) the near concrete decision to move to the country, and c) the mess, hassle and stresses of getting my place ready for sale, plus moving to temporary accommodation so the place can always look great for viewing. This last one means I'll have even less opportunity to blog as my access to the internet will be somewhat minimized... and slowed (eek).

I am quite looking forward to the changes coming up. Is exciting and a little bit nerve-wracking to be moving so far away but I am hoping to finally fulfill my dream of living in the countryside, surrounded by trees and the bliss of nature - somewhere with more trees than people! Ideally I will have a modernly-equipped cottage on large parcel of land with verandahs for me to enjoy the beautiful views of greenery (and to spot a killer bushfire before it hits me......). It's unlikely that I'll get this, but I'm going to keep dreaming and aim for as close as I can get. If not the countryside at least in the country town (am thinking Margaret River if you're interested) and perhaps within walking distance of the shops, cafes, pub, restaurants and some local artisans.

Anyway, we will see what life brings my way. I aim to dream but also to keep an open mind. Am going to do what feels right. Have realised lately that life is too short. I've had this dream for about a dozen years so I might as well give it a go.

Let me know what you think and what dreams you've chased after or are still planning to... and what is stopping you if you haven't gone after them yet.

Look out, I think he's got pocket rockets!*

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 02:56:00 +0000

* (for those unfamiliar with poker, this means one has a pair of aces in one's hand or 'pocket')

In the past few months I have discovered the joys and woes of online poker. Now, these woes, you might be assuming, are the losses of vast sums of money that prevent me from living the meagre lifestyle I've grown accustomed to. But no. I play at the play money tables which means the woes are less harsh and include, a) losing, b) putting up with other losers, tools, major male egos, etc.

Fortunately the latter can, not only be annoying, but occasionally entertaining. This phenomenon occurs when said ego-driven male espies a pretty female at his table. Now, I would usually be an object of such lascivious attentions due to a) I am female, and b) I am a living female; however, I present at the tables in such a way as most would infer that I am male (eg. I had a chat with a Texan gentleman once who was imbibing vast quantities of whiskey, had fought in Vietnam and known some Aussie soldiers (yes, he confirmed, they could drink a lot of beer) and called me sir). I do not have a picture in my little circle icon, but if I did it would likely be a sepia of an 80 year old gent in a top hat.

I have seen the astounding wisdom of my decision not to have my name as Flirty73 or EleanorXXX with a photo of me smiling/winking/slyly-pouting, etc. You see, when a player of the female persuasion turns up - ie. has a photo of a female residing in her disc-like form at the cyber table - there is suddenly a pause of the game and even at times a sound-devouring hush as all males take a moment to lean closer to their screen in aim of discovering their answer to the age old question of whether one would "chuck her out of" one's bed. Meanwhile, I'm scantily clad and already in bed and waiting for Sixpack69 to hurry up and call or fold or whatever!

The desperation of some men amazes me. Sometimes the chick they're chatting up is on the same continent at least. I can recall one occasion where Studman007 and Frenchy21 were flirting like mad, it was putting me off my game. The guy was quite the macho male and even abused little ol' me as a way of persuading her of his astoundingly masculine charms. I just tried to stop rolling my eyes long enough so I could click the 'block chat' button to find some relief for the ever increasing nausea I was suffering. Ugh. He had all the charm of week-old road kill.

At least those two were on the same continent. Another time it was Iceman76 from a South American country hounding after Mudriska33 from some Slavic nation.
'me no girlfirend'
'you boyfirend?'
'give me your number' was the extent of his wooing.
She politely responded even though he was on the other side of the world with a stupid name and only a grey emptiness on his representative disc: 'Are you on facebook?'
But it seemed he wasn't as he kept trying to get her number or address. I was laughing quite hard at this stage but managed to type:
'maybe if you gave her some of your chips'.
Iceman76: OK!!!
But, soon he was leaving and so just gave her his phone number, all several hundred international codes and all. Of course, when I say gave her his number I mean gave us all his number. How tempted was I to call it and pretend to be Mudriska33, proposing marriage and asking what his relationship was like with his mother.

Some of the comments are classic. It's amazing how much you can tell about a person just from some quickly typed comments during a poker game. a) whether english is their first language, b) how desperate they are, and c) how ridiculously, insane and desperate they are.

See example below. liz&bob is from Melbourne, hamaav from Birmingham. Let me just set it up for you. Before hamaav arrives at the table I have already figured out that it is liz, not bob, playing as whenever liz&bob wins a big hand they type 'sorry' in the chat box. We are happily playing away, all minding our own business only interrupted by the occasional 'nh' (nice hand) or apologies from liz&bob. Then hamaav arrives in the empty 'seat' between me and liz&bob. This is a direct copy of the conversation:

hamaav: cna ask u how old? bob
liz&bob: its liz 27
hamaav: good
Dealer: lefa240, it's your turn. You have 8 seconds to act
hamaav: and u spek engshe?
liz&bob: yep
Dealer: liz&bob has a flush, Ace high
Dealer: Game #3357312295: liz&bob wins side pot (700) with a flush, Ace high
Dealer: Game #3357312295: liz&bob wins main pot (3,070) with a flush, Ace high
hamaav: waht yop?
liz&bob: yes
hamaav: ok
hamaav: wear u from??
liz&bob: australia
hamaav: nice
hamaav: i ilk
Dealer: Game #3357345009: liz&bob wins pot (210)
hamaav: wat swer nem?*
hamaav: why u not come to uk?
liz&bob: been there
hamaav: wen
liz&bob: 3years
hamaav: lettl?**
…[she leaves table]
hamaav: cna ask u email adras?
…[he leaves table]
[player that is me is rolling on the floor laughing her behind off]

* I belatedly realised this must have been ‘what surname?’.
** I even more belatedly translated this as 'lately?'

Surprising she resisted his charms, especially with that particularly hip intro of (an albeit slightly abstract) 'what up?'.

Ah, she must be dedicated to dear ol' Bob.

If only they were at the one venue

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 03:50:00 +0000

Under Music, Concerts - Perth, AU on my iGoogle page today:

Megadeth at Challenge Stadium

Today @ 7:00 PM

I'm going - I want to go

- Find Tickets

Slayer at Challenge Stadium

Today @ 7:15 PM

I'm going - I want to go

- Find Tickets

John Peter Farnham at Burswood Entertainmen...

Today @ 8:00 PM

I'm going - I want to go

- Find Tickets

Where the real information lies

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 07:19:00 +0000

Just reading (yes, more reading!) a crap packet of biscuits.

There's three headings:

Ingredients

Nutrition Information

Contact Us!

Noticing the hyperbole of 'Contact Us!' I can see such an exercise promises greater excitement than the contents of their biscuits.

To do list

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Thu, 08 Oct 2009 10:00:00 +0000

The work of the artist Alicia Martin, in Schaurausch, Austria.

“Alicia Martin: Biografias—Cascade of books” by

Monika Bargmann

I'm finally getting around to consuming books I've been meaning to read for years.

Am currently reading Zadie Smith's 'White Teeth' and enjoying it,
and just finished Virginia Woolf's 'Orlando' and absolutely adored it.
I now consider it an old friend; a keeper that one!

Docu-drama - the plot thickens alright!

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 08:19:00 +0000

I've always said Aussie tv shows are not of the highest standard. But, after reading this news article, the lack of good drama in our dramas doesn't seem nearly so dramatic an issue...

Accused Brazil TV host 'missing'
By Gary Duffy
BBC News, Sao Paulo, Brazil

Police in Brazil say a TV crime show host accused of ordering killings to boost his ratings has gone missing after his arrest warrant was issued.

Wallace Souza, also a local congressman, had enjoyed parliamentary immunity until last week when the Amazonas state assembly expelled him.

A search is under way, with airports and roads from the city of Manaus in the Amazon region being monitored.
Mr Souza has not been charged and denies any wrongdoing.

The case made headlines around the world when the police accused Mr Souza of being involved in drug trafficking and ordering killings to increase the popularity of his TV programme.

Smear campaign

As well as being a former TV presenter, Mr Souza was a popular politician elected to the assembly in the state of Amazonas with a large majority.
However, his expulsion following a vote last week meant he lost his parliamentary immunity and now it appears he is on the run, after a warrant was issued for his arrest.

The authorities in Amazonas claim he ordered several killings in order to get rid of his rivals, while afterwards TV crews from his programme would mysteriously arrive at the crime scenes before the police, enabling them to secure graphic footage.

Mr Souza who has not been charged in connection with any killings, denies the accusations, and says they are part of a smear campaign by his political opponents.
However, the police say they have been unable to find the former crime show presenter despite searching a number of locations where he could have been.

It is a scene which in the past might well have made a dramatic sequence on Mr Souza's own crime show.

Women, as Women

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Mon, 05 Oct 2009 04:11:00 +0000

by photographer Sam Haskins, 'Cowboy Kate'.
and, from “Five Girls.”:

Andreas Feininger, writing in the photography journal Infinity in 1963, noted that “Haskins is fully aware of the importance of face and expression upon the effect of a nude and shows the faces of his models. Whether smiling quietly, laughing in exuberant joie de vivre or seriously looking into space, they appear completely unconscious of their nudity. It seems to me it is precisely this frankness—those large clear eyes candidly looking at me—that gives Haskins nudes and semi-nudes their bewitching quality, that indescribable mixture of sheer physical beauty a sensuality and honesty which, no matter how provocative their apparel or pose, makes these girls appear as natural and as much part of the universe, as a tree or the sea or the sky.”

This ties in nicely with what I have been pondering upon lately.

You know those ads on late at night where they show girls, both singularly and in groups, variously unclad in bikinis or lingerie, and you're encouraged to text "buff" or "tits" or something? I only tend to see them when I've taped a late movie and so they're in fast forward, but I never see them as sexy. They just look like a bunch of girls casually (very casually) hanging out.

"these girls appear as natural and as much part of the universe, as a tree or the sea or the sky."

Why does such as this need to be pointed out? I know why, specifically in it's context above, but in considering the bigger picture... I'm annoyed that women's bodies are so constantly considered sexually. We are bombarded with images sexualising women so that it has been considered normal, for ages now, accepted as a part of society, that women are sexual objects. (Most definitely in Berluscoli's Italy at least!)

Yes, we all have bodies. We're born that way. And whether others see it as sexy or not, it's just our body. It doesn't have to be seen as something sexual. Yes, they, our bodies, are just "part of the universe", and their existence is reason for our existence: our bodies are here because we would not exist without them! They are us. They are not here to provide sexual entertainment. Their predominant use is existence. I mean, my body has breasts but there's no reason I should look at my tits and think, 'Gee, I'd better have some sex soon and make the most of these, after all, that's what they're there for!'. They're just a part of my body, and they're always there whether I'm having sex or not (most of the time I'm not - of course, no one is having sex most of the time).

And a final point. All the sexualising of women dominating our society... it just cheapens it. Not just cheapens women, it cheapens the moments when it is wonderful to be sexy, to feel sexy. We should be able to enjoy feeling sexy when appropriate, when we want to and how we want to, without concern that we'll be considered a whore or a piece of meat made for the benefit of men's entertainment.

I'll give Sam Haskins the last word:

Do you miss the way it was in the 1960s?

Sam Haskins: "Absolutely, yes I do. And I miss the type of nudes that master photographers like Penn and Aveon used to do. The mass, over-the-top nudes that you see in mens magazine these days are so boring it`s unbelievable, anything goes, and they are just hyperboring, big breast, blatant nudity, nothing refined or with any finesse anymore. It`s a different world".

Life in suburban Australia...

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 10:08:00 +0000

...where (UNFORTUNATELY) the local bookstore does not look like this:

(Do you think there would be some European gent to hand whose sole employ is to catch blissfully swooning damsels?)

Come Visit Australia!

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 07:36:00 +0000

A wildlife scientist has announced that a rare species of shrimp has been killed off, most likely due to people peeing and pooing on top of Uluru.

"It's happened already that the people going up the rock somehow have affected the animals which live in the pools, possibly by peeing on the rock and pooing on the rock," he said.

He says the Branchinella Latzi shrimp species, which once inhabited rock pools on Uluru, has not been found in collections since about the 1970s.

"Certainly if they [tourists] go up, they should be behaving themselves, not pooing on the rock."

Remember those Paul Hogan ads for Aussie tourism, 'Throw another shrimp on the barbie' and all that?
Probably not quite as appealing an approach now.

grand final

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Sat, 26 Sep 2009 04:51:00 +0000

A gradual and then complete hush covers the suburbs, only broken by the occasional rev head out to make the most of the clear roads. You can tell the match has begun as you hear the odd enthused grunt and a growled 'Carn mate!' from the small collection of guys over the back, their voices trailing alternately dully and crisply to you on the breeze.
It seems only the usual squawks of the birdlife reveal that they, if anyone, knows that it’s just another day.

I resent that remark

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Thu, 24 Sep 2009 08:40:00 +0000

You know when you've updated some software on your computer and it tells you that you need to restart it but you're in the middle of something and so you click on the "Resart Later" button? You go back to what you were doing and then suddenly, in the centre of your screen appears:

You need to restart your computer. Would you like to do it now?

No!

If I wanted to do it I would do it!

I can think for myself you know!

Who do you think you are?

Who do you think I am that you can push me around like that?

As if I am a total idiot!

Yeesh.

What a nerve.

...ha! and guess what? now Blogger's packed up and left me stranded. nothin' happening. great. what is this? you're all in cahoots?!!

fine.

you computer-thingamees are much smarter than me.

you're great, i'm not.

you rule the world, i don't. right.

i know my place.

now, can you work?????????

*click*

*click click*

* beep*

*click click click click click CLICKKKKKK*

*beeeeeeeeeeeep*

ney bor shne neu nuy de schnee! bork! bork! bork!!!

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Sat, 19 Sep 2009 10:21:00 +0000

Resting in bed a lot and sharing one's bedroom wall with one's neighbour's,
one hears a lot from said neighbour.
Said neighbour is somewhat special.
This grown woman yells in many voices like a child would...
She seems to feel quite special, most especially, in being noisy
as much as possible
(and often in the wee hours; ah, bless).

The best description I can give you:
it's a bit like living next door to the Swedish chef
if he was an insomniac with a penchant for door slamming.

Actually, it sounds EXACTLY like this:

And if mexican 'lobster bandidos' came over I suspect it would sound EXACTLY like this:

PS - Could the Swedish Chef be gay?

PPS - Did you know you can get Google in Swedish Chef? (Are other programs too.)

I'm not dead... (although, is kinda hard to be sure...)

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Tue, 08 Sep 2009 07:42:00 +0000

Good grief. It's been so long since I had my computer on it's barely working with the sudden shock of it all. Hopefully I'll be able to post this though... (and if you're reading this then things must have gone ok).

Forgive my absence from blogging of late. I've been quite under the weather and am still pretty much so. The most amusing symptom has been an impressive degree of vertigo. Sometimes I'm shuffling around the house barely upright in my effort not to suddenly topple over the dizziness is so overpowering. Yesterday, as I was shuffling along the hall, slightly stooped and with my head tilted a little to the side (as that's where it was least likely to induce the house to spin about), I realized I must have looked like Dustin Hoffman's character in Rainman.

More profoundly, I've seen that it's a blessing I'm not Wonder Woman... I'd never be able to get changed! I'd be only partway into my spinning before I'd topple over, and God only knows what kind of mess I would be clothed in... or, more to the point, wouldn't be.

Yes, when everything really sucks, it's good to count your blessings.

(Oh. Did I mention I have a slight fever? Ah, who am I kidding. I was this nutty before.)

Sand

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 09:46:00 +0000

source

Did anyone else have a sandpit when they were a kid?
I remember ours well and this doll head reminds me of it.
For some reason there was a permanent kewpie doll buried there.
All other toys - the cars I played with (I wasn't much for dolls) -
were put away, but the old doll just got the brunt of the weather
and a lot of isolation and star gazing.
Occasionally she'd unexpectedly pop up as a rather kitsch
speed bump on my extravagant race tracks.
Poor doll.
I wonder if she's still buried under the giant monstrosity of a house that's
there now, that shamefully took all the beauty and memories of my
childhood home and the nooks, shadows and blossoms of the old garden away.
Of course, the sandpit and been a fishpond to start with,
and we filled it in...
so it goes.

Storm

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 07:06:00 +0000

With the windows open and standing in the open doorway, happily gazing upon the lashings of wind and rain, I heard the emergency services man notify radio listeners they'd best stay away from windows as the storm could whip some tree branches their way. Was quite in the mood for some storminess... wasn't really considering any damages....

Well, I suppose I've almost had some storm damage.

You see, later I noticed an ovenmitt from next door's (undercover) clothesline had flopped itself into my yard, peg and all. Venturing out to delicately toss it over the fence I scared the... well, quite literally I'm afraid, scared the shit out of the multitudes of doves sheltering upon my doorstep and window ledges.

Do you think the insurance company would classify a steady line of dove poo as storm damage?

Thanks Mr Hughes

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Sat, 08 Aug 2009 06:08:00 +0000

John Hughes is dead. Apparently he made movies such as those goofy looking Home Alone ones, but I've never seen them and frankly don't really care.

All I care is that the man made Ferris Bueller's Day Off and, when a young teenager, I loved and knew that film so well I could pretty much recite the entire script from memory. Even the other week I was at a dinner party where one person - I think inspired because someone had asked to pass the butter - began "Hey batta batta batta, s-wing batta!". To which the person next to me continued, "He-can't-hit, he-can't-hit, he-can't-hit, he-can't-hit," and I immediately concluded, "S-wing batta." Then the dinner conversation continued as normal. For us Gen-Xers Ferris Bueller is pretty much engrained in our cerebra.

Some of my favourite quotes:

Ferris: Not that I condone fascism, or any -ism for that matter.
-Ism's in my opinion are not good.
A person should not believe in an -ism,
he should believe in himself.
I quote John Lennon, "I don't believe in the Beatles,
I just believe in me."
Good point there. After all,
he was the walrus.
I could be the walrus. I'd still have to bum rides off people.

Ferris: I'm so disappointed in Cameron! Twenty bucks says he's in his car right now debating on whether or not to go out.
Cameron: [Cameron's in his car] He'll keep calling me. He'll keep calling me until I come over. He'll make me feel guilty... This is uh... This is ridiculous, ok I'll go, I'll go, I'll go, I'll go, I'll go. What - I'LL GO. Shit.
[Turns the engine on then turns it off and hits the passenger seat]
Cameron: God damn it!

Cameron: Why'd you kick me?
Ferris: Where's your brain?
Cameron: Why'd you kick me?
Ferris: Where's your brain?
Cameron: Why'd you kick me?
Ferris: Where's your brain?
Cameron: I asked you first.
Ferris: How can we pick up Sloane if Rooney is there with her?
Cameron: I said for her to be there alone and you freaked.
Ferris: Now, I didn't hit you. I lightly slapped you.
Cameron: You hit me. Look don't make me participate in your stupid crap if you don't like the way I do it. You make me get out of bed, you make me come over here. You make me make a phony phone call to Edward Rooney? The man could squash my nuts into oblivion. And-and-and then, and then, you deliberately hurt my feelings.

Economics Teacher: Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?
Simone: Um, he's sick. My best friend's sister's boyfriend's brother's girlfriend heard from this guy who knows this kid who's going with the girl who saw Ferris pass out at 31 Flavors last night. I guess it's pretty serious.
Economics Teacher: Thank you, Simone
Simone: No problem whatsoever.

Ed Rooney: I don't trust this kid any further than I can throw him.
Grace: Well, with your bad knee Ed, you shouldn't throw anybody... Its true.
Ed Rooney: What is so dangerous about a character like Ferris Bueller is he gives good kids bad ideas.
Grace: Mmm-hmm.
Ed Rooney: Last thing I need at this point in my career is fifteen hundred Ferris Bueller disciples running around these halls. He jeopardizes my ability to effectivley govern this student body.
Grace: Well, makes you look like an ass is what he does, Ed.

Katie Bueller: I don't remember him being sick nine times.
Ed Rooney: That's probably because he wasn't sick. He was skipping school. Wake up and smell the coffee, Mrs. Bueller. It's a fool's paradise. He is just leading you down the primrose path.

(I even remember at which point there's the screech of chalk and the guy waking up with drool on his desk...)
Economics Teacher: In 1930, the Republican-controlled House of Representatives, in an effort to alleviate the effects of the... Anyone? Anyone?... the Great Depression, passed the... Anyone? Anyone? The tariff bill? The Hawley-Smoot Tariff Act? Which, anyone? Raised or lowered?... raised tariffs, in an effort to collect more revenue for the federal government. Did it work? Anyone? Anyone know the effects? It did not work, and the United States sank deeper into the Great Depression. Today we have a similar debate over this. Anyone know what this is? Class? Anyone? Anyone? Anyone seen this before? The Laffer Curve. Anyone know what this says? It says that at this point on the revenue curve, you will get exactly the same amount of revenue as at this point. This is very controversial. Does anyone know what Vice President Bush called this in 1980? Anyone? Something-d-o-o economics. "Voodoo" economics.

Ed Rooney: I did not achieve this position in life by having some snot-nosed punk leave my cheese out in the wind.

Grace: Oh, Ed. You just sounded like Dirty Harry just then.
Ed Rooney: Really? Thanks, Grace.

Cameron: [singing] When Cameron was in Egypt's land...?let my Cameron go!"

Shermerite: Save Ferris?
Jeannie: Excuse me?
Shermerite: Well, a group of us are collecting money to buy Ferris Bueller a new kidney. They run about 50 g's, so if you wouldn't mind helping out...
Jeannie: Go piss up a flagpole.
Shermerite: I'm sorry?
Jeannie: You should be.
[Knocks the can out of his hand]
Shermerite: Hey, hey, hey! What if you get a favour some day from Ferris Bueller? Then where will you be, huh!? You heartless wench!

('Heartless wench' was a favoured insult for me and my friends from then on.)

Maitre D': Look, I'm very busy. Why don't you take the kids and go back to the clubhouse?
Ferris: Are you suggesting that I'm not who I say I am?
Maitre D': I'm suggesting that you leave before I have to get snooty.
Ferris: Snooty?
Maitre D': Snotty.
Ferris: Snotty?

Maitre D': I weep for the future.

-------

Hughes also made The Breakfast Club (if you're like me you're now hearing the tune 'Don't you, forget about me...', which is ok; makes me think of the cute guy, you know, Judd Nelson (please, please leave my blog immediately if you thought Emilio Estevez!)). By the way, I was oft compared to the Ally Sheedy character. This actually made some sense, a lot more than when kids compared me to Martika (remember those Toy Soldiers moves anyone?) or the chick from Texas whom I was nothing like... except, well, kinda cool of course... our hair was just the same really...

And Hughes wrote Pretty in Pink. A friend of mine regularly watches Two and a Half Men and when I see Jon Cryer I can't help but call him Duckie (much to my friend's annoyance, as he's no idea who Duckie is). And today I read: I met Jon Cryer two summers ago on the set of "Two and a Half Men" and he admitted that he still hears fans call him "Duckie" wherever he goes, whereas no one calls him "Alan" from "Men.

(Quite interesting to imagine is the yummy Robert Downey Jnr in the role of Duckie. Hughes considered him before casting Cryer. He also sought Jodie Foster before Ringwald, and Anjelica Houston for Iona. I would have liked to have seen that movie!)

Duckie was gorgeous. I watched Pretty In Pink several times and it was mostly for Duckie. Not so much for Andie, Molly Ringwald's character who, although she had a couple of yes-I-have-a-spine moments was annoyingly sappy. I mean, ugh, Blane? Prom? Prom? Stop being such a soft girly girl for godssake!!! I mean, check out Duckie in the clip below. It's when he performs Otis. Ah Otis. I only heard of Otis, and now love Otis, cause of this film.

Due to this film and the charms of Duckie I would oft quote his lines (both to be applied when ready to withdraw one's presence from the room) "I'm off like a dirty shirt" and "Let's plow." Ah. All class.

I also liked:

Iona: I know I'm old enough to be his mother, but when the Duck laid that kiss on me last night, I swear my thighs just went up in flames! He must practice on melons or something.

Andie: You know your talking like that just because I'm going out with Blane
Duckie: His name is Blane? Oh, oh! That's a major appliance!! That's not a name!

Indeed. And she should have ended up with Duckie, not that bland bloody Blane!! Who were those idiots in the focus group wanting the ending changed!!? She orignally ended up with Ducky (there's a dvd with this ending), but they thought she should be with Mr No Personality. Oh, pullleeeze! (Look, I'm thirteen all over again!)

You know, I think I was able to like some of the girly shit in the film because... well, because the part below could have been in my life almost word for word (leaving out the 'rich' bit and such. *sigh* Ugh, dumb first loves... *grumble grumble* Stoopid broken heart...)

Blane: What do you want to hear?
Andie: Tell me!
Blane: What?
Andie: You're ashamed to be seen with me.
Blane: No, I am not!
Andie: You're ashamed to go out with me. You're terrified that you're goddamn rich friends won't approve.
[Andie hits Blane]
Andie: Just say it!
[Andie hits him again]
Andie: Just tell me the truth!
Blane: You don't understand that it has nothing at all do with you. ...

Ah, and it's still a mystery to me.

As the bouncer says to Duckie: 'Love's a bitch, Duck. Love's a bitch.'

These films had such words of wisdom.

So, high school sucked. But dear ol' John Hughes made it that much more bearable. And for that minor miracle I thank him.

Duckie: It's called a sense of humor - you should get one - they're nice.

.

Macho Propaganda, Russian Style (or... 'Show Us Ya Nipples!')

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Wed, 05 Aug 2009 07:44:00 +0000

When he's not tranquilizing tigers he's diving in mini-submarines to attach thingamees to whales. What a handy guy to have around eh?

And, fortunately for the laaay-dies Putin's been camping (for a whole day!) and oh yeah baby, he's putting it out there again! Get ya ruble notes ready!

SMH -- The 56-year-old former president was kitted out in green military fatigues, impenetrable black sunglasses and a green slouch hat. He then posed for a series of photographs driving a motorboat, snapping twigs with his knee, building a fire, fishing off a rock ledge, feeding his horse - still topless - and surging out of a frigid lake.

And, The Times reports:

Mr Putin, who will be 57 in October, showed off a set of rippling arm muscles as he demonstrated his butterfly swimming stroke. The photos will inevitably trigger mass swooning by women all over Russia — as well as unfavourable comparisons of their husbands to Mr Putin’s manly physique. They will also confirm the Russian Prime Minister’s status as a gay icon. ...

During President Obama’s visit to Moscow last month Mr Putin stole the limelight by joining a group of Hell’s Angels-style bikers called the Night Wolves. Dressed in black, he boasted that he had performed a wheelie. [Hmm, I wonder if Brendon Nelson was there....?]

(I think he's trying to tell us something.)

Can I just say, thank God our PM doesn't do this.

'I like my cup of tea............ strong!'

Ruminations upon the telly

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Tue, 04 Aug 2009 02:51:00 +0000

Firstly, perhaps, I should note that I'm not actually ruminating whilst upon the telly. Although images of me perched precariously astride the summit of a LCD slimline flatscreen might amuse you, I'm afraid it would be a false inferrence. (Plus, my telly is actually of the older gen and a wee bit fatter, so the falsity only increases with knowledge. Shame.)

Anyway, was just pondering that Good News Week (with the most annoying jingle of all tv shows ever created; so freakin' jolly and cheery and... jingle-y) can often be a darn funny show. Even though I would be pleased to meet Paul McDermott only if I could slap him. (And if he were singing... a punch in the throat. Harsh of me I know, but how else does one get him to ever STOP?!!!!!)

So channel 10 is improving it seems.

Especially with the recent ubiquity of the ever avuncular charm of Shaun Micallef. (The man should get a knighthood. I mean, Sir Shaun Micallef just sounds so right.)

And, points again to the station for shedding itself of the itchy burr of Kyle Sandilands. Although, perhaps they should have thought a little sooner of 'protecting the show's image'. Helpfully, channel 10's programming boss has added that "we'd like to think that all families can enjoy the program in front of the TV." Um, so not upon it or anything. He's a bright spark, eh?

Even the 7pm Project improved in it's second week.

I am still unsure as to how much I like this show. I'm not an overly avid viewer at this stage, especially as my favourites are... oh, um, you know, what's-his-face who used to be on Idol but, as he said last night, left to get away from Kyle, only to then have Kyle leave.... You know, the one who's not quite as cute as Andrew G but whose wonderful out of left field humour places him as a far, far lovlier companion. James Mathieson! That's it. And Ruby Rose. (Really. If I were that way inclined I would swoon.) And neither of them are on the show much! They should swap places with the other three. Honestly, I've never really understood the deal with Carrie Bickmore. Hughes can be funny... but only when he gets it wrong usually.

So, what are your own ruminations.... upon my ruminations.... eh?

ants

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 06:22:00 +0000

there's lots of them.
and they've taken over my clothes line.
not good to bring in clean clothes with a few
additional hitchhikers of ants.
ants wandering amongst one's knickers can be somewhat unsettling.

i've encouraged the little things to move along.
and so, they've swarmed over a great expanse.
apparently one of the collective terms for these critters is a bike.
so there's a great bike of ants outside, and in dealing with such
i've managed to bring some inside with me.
hence random ants throughout the day.
one on the coaster.
one on the couch.
one tapdancing along the computer keyboard.
and then of course,
an ant or two in one's pants.
better than an entire bike in one's trousers i suppose.
(of course, i expect, you know this.)

note: they're also of course referred to as a colony, army or swarm. and they most definitely are swarming about the place.

you may also be interested (or you may be completely indifferent of course, but it's hard to tell from here) to know that the collective term for apes is a troop.

magpies, a congregation or tittering.
mallards/ducks, a flush or puddling/paddling.

an array of hedgehogs.
monkeys, a cartload, tribe or troop.
cobras, a quiver. (would make me quiver. but, even just one could do that.)

a float of crocs.
a dule of doves.
a rhumba of rattlesnakes.
a crash of rhinos.
a leap of leopards.
a swift of tigers.
a skulk of foxes.

you can have a bloat of hippopotamuses.
also quite apt is a scourge of mosquitoes.
prettily there's a bouquet of pheasants.
a peep of chickens.

a knob of.... pintails. (a type of duck it turns out. i wonder if there's a yobbo duck... could come in handy.)

a bevy or lamentation of swans.
an ostentation of peacocks.
an implausibility of gnus.
an unkindness of ravens.
a troubling of goldfish.
a smack of jellyfish.
and, a mischief of meeces.
by which, of course, i mean mouses.
no!
mice.

so next time one of your mates shows off by their great ken that a bunch of crows be a murder, you can ask them if they know what a knob refers to!

You'll look pretty when we TELL YOU to look pretty!!!!

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Thu, 23 Jul 2009 05:19:00 +0000

Magda turns up for her first commercial for Jenny Craig.

Producer: Oh my god, Magda. Don't you look lovely darling! Um, I see you're wearing a bit of makeup dear. And, er, your hair... Yes, yes, lovely, lovely. But Magda darling, didn't my PA tell you not to brush your hair today? No? Marcel! Marcel!!!! Get over here! Look! Look at Magda! This is no good! Look, put her in the outfit, see if it looks hideous enough. *whispers* Make sure she looks fat... and abuse her a bit. Make her look miserable. And give her face a good scrub will you. I want not an inch of makeup on her! Use the scrub cleanser... No... use the cleaner's gumption paste. But first Marcel, drag her through that hedge over there. No! No, Marcel!!! Backwards! Backwards! Uh. People these days...

Magda turns up for her latest commercial.

Producer: Oh my god, Magda. Don't you look lovely darling! You're wearing just a bit of make up dear and, er, your hair... You know you really ought to have at least washed it. No, no! No buts! Oh, look, I made a little joke! *titters* Look, it doesn't matter. You'll be in hair and makeup shortly. Did you bring something to eat dear? Oh. *laughs* Yes, silly me. It's just that you'll be in there a little while so I just thought...

12 hours, a girdle and fancy frock later:

Producer: Lovely Magda!!! I can't even recognise you, which is perfect! Now remember, you're allowed to be happy this time and you know what that means. Yes, swing the hair. Just swing everything really... but not too much. That's good. Good. Don't you look beautiful? Well, lucky we weighed you before the makeup, eh? *titters* Now. Where's this bloody cameraman? Hey! Make sure you use the good lens for this one or it'll be your ass on the line instead of Magda's! Oh, *hee hee* I made another joke! ...

--------

Go here to see what I mean (darn flash program; can't copy pictures).

PS - Onya Magda! I'd never have a go at you! Just ad agencies. Why can't a woman look her best whenever?!!!!!!

cogito ergo sum.......

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Wed, 22 Jul 2009 05:42:00 +0000

ergo...

...I'm in trouble.

I can't think of the word I want that means you can't think of the word you want.

...

...

...

...

oh the irony...

...

...

...

...

...

...

*rummages through the interwebs in frustration*

...no

no......

...

lethologica!

hurrah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oooh, ooooh, oooh. And in delving into it more than my initial efforts to recall had initially allowed - meaning of course, had I remembered it and not needed to delve I would have known less than I do now - I then discovered most wonderously (to me at least) that 'letho' (meaning 'forgetfulness') originally comes from: "the Lethe (or River of Oblivion) was one of the rivers that flowed through the realm of Hades, from which the shades of the dead were forced to drink in order to forget their past lives on earth". And this is in one of my favourite poems by Keats (Ode on Melancholy) which is how I learnt about the river of forgetfulness in the first place. And furthermore - being reminded of this reasonably long poem I recall (see, look, remembering!) - that I am not too bad with my memory really as I can remember the entire poem.* "No, no, go not to Lethe..!!!"

* And in finding this link proceeded to learn that the poem used to have an added stanza at the start! Look! Lethologica can lead to learning!!!!!

*pats self proudly on pedagogic back and departs*

Picture It Meme

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Fri, 10 Jul 2009 05:57:00 +0000

I hath been inspired to create a meme.

You may recall an earlier pictorial meme. Well I think it's time for another. Don't you?

[if you answered 'yes', please keep reading. if you answered 'no', you can bugger off then; see if I care. hmph.]

Anyway.

It goes a little like this.

Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
Using only the first page of results, pick one image.
Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into Big Huge Lab’s Mosaic Maker to create a mosaic of the picture answers.

It be a 3x3 mosaic.

The queries to respond to in such a pictorial manner are:

Something that represents beauty for you.
A love.
An addiction.
A favourite album or style of music.
A place you spent your childhood.
An enjoyable pastime.
Your favourite season.
A favourite animal.
Somewhere on the planet you'd like to live or visit.

The pictures you choose can be as abstract as you like.

Mine looks like this (click on it for a bigger looksee).

1. Pure serenity., 2. Profundity. Mission365; Number One Hundred One., 3. Red Hot Poker, 4. "Being a Duchess is so tiring.... Zzzz" Duchie Day #12 - A Wallpaper, 5. Trigg Beach, 6. Mount-to-be-read, 7. Reaching out to touch Autumn's Gold, 8. Snow leopard in the snow, 9. Scenery, Ponza island

You can see my answers in the links, but I will explain 'Duchess' for the music question. At the moment my favourite album is the soundtrack to The Duchess. Quite unusual for me to indulge in classical music, but I find it quite emotive; very moving. (You can listen to it at that link too.)

I'll now tag the projectivist, kath, and the man. Create away!!!

Namaste

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Mon, 06 Jul 2009 02:45:00 +0000

...is the word I was trying to recall.

Firstly my brain came up with 'enchanté'.
But there were no lovely French folk that I was pleased to acquaint myself with.

Try again...

Next was 'shalom'.
Which was closer, I mean, there's some spirituality involved at least and it's a greeting.
Just no Jews about, so of little value to me at this point.

Keep trying little mind! C'mon, you can do it! I intoned with my best Arnie impression. You're getting closer...!

However, once my brain - synapses sparking with promise and effort - produced 'aspartame' I gave up.

Ah, bugger it.

Aloha all.

Some research for you: In Sanskrit the word is namah + te = namaste which means “I bow to you” - my greetings, salutations or prostration to you. The word ‘namaha’ can also be literally interpreted as "na ma" (not mine). Hmm. 'Not mine'. How apt. It has a spiritual significance of negating or reducing one's ego in the presence of another. Indeed, my ego is reduced.
Golly. The power of this Hindu word! Who knew?

wtf awakening

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Tue, 30 Jun 2009 06:12:00 +0000

So, this morning I awoke from a dream (and, fortunately, did not wake up to find myself dead - I'm not looking for Michael Jackson media stuff, but can that guy* please stop saying that!) and, with my wits emerging immediately from this dream, I had a thought: Oh, I'm awake here too. People in non-dream life can be awake too.

What the hey?

* Brian Oxman, who was the Jackson family’s attorney for 20 years, says he was afraid the pop star would die from misuse of prescription drugs. He told reporters outside of UCLA Medical Center last night: “I have warned that one day Michael Jackson would wake up dead, and that I would not be silent if that was the case, because of the misuse of medications.” I think this would be a wtf awakening also.

Full of peace. Just full of it!!!

ingenuebloom@gmail.com (eleanor bloom) — Mon, 15 Jun 2009 04:45:00 +0000

You know how doves and olive branches are supposed to be symbols of peace? Well right now the branches of my olive trees are brimming with doves; I've been taken over! Peaceful symbolism as far as the eye can see!

But, they're not so peaceful. They're sitting on these olive branches and pecking the crap out of them: hack! hack! hack! They're grabbing at it with their beaks and yanking away, tearing bits off the poor ol' olive branch. It's all destruction and mayhem out there!

I think I may have found the reason why the world ain't so peaceful. We got the symbols wrong! I'm about to email the UN now to alert them.

As soon as I'm done shooting at these bloody doves...