| The exciting house holiday continues |
| Tuesday, August 30, 2005 |
Hey guys,
I'm still on extended holiday at my house - lucky, eh? I've been having a marvellous time - I attended a historically significant archaeological site and actually took part in a dig - I found a bar of chocolate and two bucks down the back of the couch. Then I headed out to explore the delights of the local bazaar and it was full of wonderful sights, smells and sounds - the local shopping centre was particularly noisy as some of the latest wanna-bes from Australian Idol were appearing, a kid next to me decided to throw up his mushed-up vegie lunch and I saw a woman with six children (obviously one of the wonders of the world). I was also able to sample some of the local offerings - a falafel wrap and flat white in the food court. Then I headed back to my lodgings - where I had a nana nap on the couch.
Don't be too jealous - I'm having hommous and crackers for dinner.
Cleo |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 2:11 PM |
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| There's nothing worse than... |
| Friday, August 26, 2005 |
There is really nothing worse than feeling like you need a holiday then getting really long detailed emails from your friends who are actually on holiday in exotic places.
Yes, please do tell me how you are frolicking in the Bolivian Yungas jungle, surrounded by beautiful mountains - while I am trying to force myself to leave the house in the cold and rain to get some milk. Yeah.
I'm sending out a group email now:
Hey, Thought you'd like to hear about my latest adventures. Well I couldn't believe how wonderful it was to sit on the couch and watch Desperate Housewives again. I had to pinch myself because it felt like a dream. The scenery was awe-inspiring - 360 degree rented-house walls that needed painting and some dusty boring furniture. I was able to sample some of the native foods - a half-eaten bowl of cereal that was meant to be dinner. And socialize with the locals - Mrs Redfern from next door popped around to ask for an egg. Then I travelled from the couch to the kitchen and there I encountered a rare animal known as "empty fridge" - I had to approach it carefully because it can sometimes be scary and there's no knowing what had sprouted from the 3-week-old left-over chicken. Have to go continue my adventurous frolicking now - I mean I really have to go. Think you can guess my next destination.
Signing off from exciting house holiday,
Cleo |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 10:51 AM |
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| The evil omnipotence of junk food |
| Monday, August 22, 2005 |
It would be good if you could eat junk food once and be done with it. But you can't, no no. There are reminders just lurking, ready to grab you by the taste buds when your guard is down.
Firstly there is the ingredient they mix in with the fatty cheese on pizza - let's call it 'moreish'; it's a bit like MSG.
But the most evil part is that the smell of junk food just stays and stays and stays. You ferry the fish and chips home from the shop in your car and the smell stays in your car for days. Every time you get in, there's the fish and chippy smell, taunting and tempting you.
This is because it's junk food. It doesn't happen with lightly steamed broccoli. Oh no - that smell dissipates immediately.
I think the smell itself is even fattening. I'm going to hold my breath next time I get in the car so don't feel like pizza AND I don't end up with pizza thighs. |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 5:35 PM |
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| Thoughts on Singledom (and rollerskating) |
| Wednesday, August 17, 2005 |
Since I am so bad at relationships I am going to try a new tack. Yes, from now on I will be a female version of Cliff Richard (the original bachelor boy), content on my own forever, only of course I will be much better at roller-skating.
If you remember a Cliff song of the mid-eighties called ‘Wired For Sound’ you may remember the accompanying video clip where he makes a very wobbly attempt at roller skating. I can never understand how my Mum continues to have a crush on him after this. At least I think it was a crush, or maybe it was pure music appreciation. Or maybe it was a crush based on music appreciation. And if that’s the case, do I really like U2’s music, or do I just have a gigantic crush on Bono? |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 3:01 PM |
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| My Sean Connery theory |
| Monday, August 15, 2005 |
Yes, quite obviously I had far too much time to think on the weekend, since I was sick and stuck at home. Yet I didn't spend time solving the world's problems, no no. I spent time thinking about why Sean Connery talks the way he does - You know, quite often there's a 'sh' where a mere 's' sound should be. Yes, it's sexy, but it deserves an explanation really.
Anyway it all started when he was a boy - So there's little Seany, just learning to read and write but he's quite obviously a little confused. His name is S-e-a-n but everyone pronounces it 'Shorn'. So it's clearly a pronunciation confusion that has engrained itself in his verbal communication.Labels: my weird theories |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 9:50 AM |
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| Intelligent design is faulty |
| Friday, August 12, 2005 |
There's something really wrong with the body response mechanism.
I'm sick today - that awful ugly snotty sick (with a red nose worthy of day all of its own).
So the big, important question of the day is: Why doesn't your body react better when you are ill? shouldn't it be going "oh Cleo isn't feeling very well, I'll make her look absolutely fabulous".
But no, it makes my nose red, my lips crack, my hair all greasy and stringy, my face pasty and pimply ... and my stomach feel like consuming only hip-burgeoning chocolate in uber quantities.
Plus i'm sick on a Friday. Crapola. Guess I'll be spending this evening watching Serendipity on DVD ... again. Tragic. |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 9:54 AM |
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| Bring back the Cainer cravat campaign - alert #2 |
| Wednesday, August 10, 2005 |
Right now this has all gone a little bit too far. Bring back the cravat and bring it back now.
Jonathan Cainer's rough look has turned into a fully-fledged beard.
The hairiness increase seems to be in honour of the establishment of the Psychic Museum in York in the UK. Cainer launched the museum with spoon bender Uri Geller (who has been putting his cutlery-bending mind skills to good use by making jewellery - or maybe he just designs it. Anyhoo, he should make jewellery out of bent cutlery; otherwise there's a skill that's just going to waste.).
I don't have Pogonophobia (fear of beards) and I know in the 60s and 70s beards were sort of in and symbolised power, masculinity etc ... but I haven't heard anything about them increasing psychic powers. Yeah, see. Plus sometimes it's easy to get sandwich crumbs caught in there.
Bring Back the Cainer Cravat Campaign - alert #1
Bring Back the Cainer Cravat CampaignLabels: Bring back the Cainer Cravat campaign |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 3:20 PM |
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| It's a 'girl' thing |
| Monday, August 08, 2005 |
I have realised that there is something wrong with me. Don't laugh. Okay there are several things wrong with me. Okay, okay, a lot.
Anyway, despite flapping about in my thirties, I seem unable to refer to myself as a 'woman'. I even get irked when little kids refer to me as 'lady'. e.g. "Mummy, look at that lady's wobbly bottom" - when it should quite obviously be "Mummy, look at that GIRL's wobbly bottom".
So this morning I'm in a cafe reading an article in Australian Vogue (no knitting patterns, no recipes, not a childlike eligible bachelor in sight ... but lots of dresses worth a week's wages and some odd catwalk fashion not suitable for day wear) and it was talking about how today's women don't want to grow up (ie, not having kids, gadding about in the latest teen fashions, listening to Beyonce, etc etc.).
It was like looking in a mirror (Well apart from the Beyonce thing. Though there is plenty of inappropriate pop trash in her place). I think it's a slight thirties crisis (This morning it was heightened by the fact that at the cafe I was surrounded by mothers who had just dropped their kids off at school sipping skim-milk lattes and talking about Baby Gap and sandwiches. Shudder.)
Am I refusing to grow up? Is there a whole new generation of er women girls who are joining the female equivalent of the 'all men are boys' club? Anyway I don't care - I'm still having a bouncy castle at my birthday party this year. And I want a skateboard. |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 3:54 PM |
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| You know you're getting older when ... |
| Friday, August 05, 2005 |
So I was in the supermarket today and as there was a long queue at the checkout I scan the women's magazines for suitable material to flick through while waiting.
I get a bit excited because on one magazine's cover it announces the 50 most eligible bachelors. So I go for that one thinking I can pick a suitable one for self (think beach house on South Pacific Island, private jet, own cook, sexy splattering of grey hair, hunky 40-ish bod sans middle-aged spread, looking for ditsy-but-strangely-attractive 30-something bad reverse parker, yada yada yada)
So I pick it up and eagerly flick to the pages of potential future husband - only there are no eligible bachelors for me. Instead I find 50 school children. I'm not kidding, they looked about 12. (They all had no body hair, but come to think of it that may have been because they chest wax.)
Anyway all is obviously not lost because outside the supermarket an older gentleman with his own flash push-bike and a few of his own teeth started to talk to me. He spent lots of time telling me that the supermarket checkout chick had asked him how he was, and he answered Give us a kiss, then you'll see how I am. I'm sure she didn't and I certainly wasn't going to hang around to see how he was. Still, I'm sure he'll make some Betty, Jean or Muriel very happy and they can ride off into the sunset on a bicycle made for two.Labels: You know you are getting older when |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 3:59 PM |
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| Anyone for a class of '85 craggy old woman reunion tour? |
| Wednesday, August 03, 2005 |
In honour of The Rolling Stones craggy-old-man-band reunion world tour, I am going to talk about big lips. Is Angelina Jolie the love child of Mick Jagger and Gladys the cafeteria lady from The Muppet Show?
I don't think any band should embark on a reunion tour - it screams old, past it, and 'would you like your pre-gig refreshments put in the blender for easy consumption, dear?'.
You wouldn't see me getting together with my Grade 6 school friends to reprise our lunch-time make-up-a-dance routine to the Pointer Sisters' 'Jump' (Think lots of jumping - it was very creative) and I could not be convinced to reunite with church girls to liturgical dance to Amy Grant. Eek, did I just confess that? |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 3:10 PM |
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| Trashy music confessions |
| Tuesday, August 02, 2005 |
I just want to declare publically that I lie about the first album I ever had. (Why do people ask you that question anyway - you're 7, you can't make proper decisions at 7 - you spend your life playing marbles, watching Disney and earning badges for housework in the Brownie Guides - well that was me; exciting childhood, eh?)
Anyway, I always say it's Blondie's Parallel Lines, which is the first album I ever bought, but not the first album I ever had. The first album I ever had was the Sound of Music soundtrack, which is not so bad as it could have been the Beatle Barkers (Fake dogs barking Beatles songs. It exists. No really.). |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 10:51 AM |
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| The coping mantras |
| Monday, August 01, 2005 |
The female survival mechanism is a complex thing. We have a highly scientific approach to making it through a nasty or embarrassing experience/event, or winning an argument. Grin.
It goes way beyond the putting of hands over ears and saying loudly 'la la la' when you don't want to hear something (but this is also good as a fallback)
It's the mantra. And there are several incarnations:
1. The positive mantra -
Going to extraordinary lengths to survive the pap smear, one very private friend talked to a doctor friend about what it was like for a doctor to do one and was told 'oh it's just like looking in an ear for a doctor'. So she now survives the pap by repeating the mantra 'it's just like looking in an ear, it's just like looking in an ear'. (I don't know what mantra she would employ while getting a Brazilian.)
2. The negative mantra -
This is employed when trying not to laugh in an inappropriate situation. It involves saying "my grandma is dead" over and over again. (Although, obviously, if your grandma is already dead, this is not going to work.)
3. The self-talk mantra -
Used during an argument, this mantra involves saying 'I'm right, I'm right, I'm right' inwardly, but saying 'fine' outwardly. It is especially useful to end the argument with your male counterpart (counter partner?), but still feel that you're the winner ;)*
*This should definitely have a disclaimer. |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 11:01 AM |
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