| Blaming PBS for self-inflicted hair disaster |
| Friday, September 29, 2006 |
I may be about to turn an unmentionable age (deep in the thirties, ouch), but it seems I haven't learnt some lessons from my childhood. When I was 8 I decided to give my Barbie a haircut. Oh in my head I imagined it was going to be a beautifully executed cut, with Barbie looking wonderful at the end of it. Instead, of course, after I had hacked at it, she looked like the dog had chewed it.
Well this week I repeated the mistake - only this time it wasn't on Barbie, it was on myself. Yes, I took a big chunk out of my hair and now it looks all lobsided.
I want to blame it on PBS (Pre Birthday Syndrome) because it's made me an emotional, whingy, hate-my-hair mess.Labels: hair |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 9:52 AM |
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| One-woman-band cake fest |
| Thursday, September 28, 2006 |
At the wedding I went to on the weekend they had this excellent chocolate cake infused with oozing caramel, topped with huge chunks of chocolate and encased entirely in a thick layer of chocolate.
I polished it off easily and wished I was on my own so I could enjoy a second helping without worrying that people would think I was a Fat Mandi. (Actually it would probably start off as just a thin slice, then another thin slice ... well you can imagine what happens ;)
I never understand what people mean when they say a dessert is "too rich", so when the waitress came back to collect the plates she said "no one has been able to finish the chocolate cake", to which I reply "I have! What does that mean?!." |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 9:32 AM |
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| The downward slide to my football-hijacked birthday |
| Wednesday, September 27, 2006 |
I don't cope with birthdays too well. The downward slide to Saturday's dreaded event began last night with a few intense whinges about my life and today intensified with an outfit crisis that lasted an angry frustrated midriff-hating half an hour (Most of the contents of my wardrobe is now lying in a scared huddle on my bedroom floor).
But that's not the worst thing - my birthday has been HIJACKED by the bloomin' Aussie Rules football grand final. Give it back you tight-shorted ball kickers, or I'll kick some balls myself ;) |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 10:22 AM |
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| Grandkids! WHAT grandkids? |
| Thursday, September 21, 2006 |
I caught up with a friend last night and she told me she has been studying to become a medium (apparently they spend a lot of the class just meditating).
So we are talking about being kids and I was telling her that my nana used to make 'magic' lemonade by asking me what color lemonade I would like then as I yelled out the color, she would pour the lemonade into the glass and ta da it turned that exact color. I believed it for years until I found out that she used to nip into the kitchen and pop a couple of drops of food coloring in the bottom of the glass before pouring.
So anyway I'm telling this story to my Medium 101 student friend and she says "oh you can do that with your grandkids".
I laugh and reply "I'm not having kids".
Then she goes all serious, looks at me intently and says "yes you are".
My cynical self wonders whether the fact that she has said it means that I'll believe it and do it anyway. Kids aside, I quite like the thought that I'll be living to be old enough to be a grandmother. Then of course Ms Paranoid in my head has to ruin it by speculating that if I choose not to have kids will I get to live that old, or will the fact that I am denying my fate mean that I'll die young and childless? |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 10:08 AM |
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| Ditsy Event of the Day |
| Tuesday, September 19, 2006 |
When it comes to cooking I am not one of those people who wield ingredients with creative flair; I have to follow the recipe to the absolute letter (too bad this attention to detail doesn't seep into other areas of my life).
Anyhoo, in a fit of ditsiness, this time I followed the recipe to the letter - and er, a bit beyond.
This particular recipe for potato, fetta and spinach pie called for a flan/tart ring and puff pastry. Being a child of the 'instant' generation I think that I need to buy one of those instant pastry flan rings from the supermarket. So I'm making the pie and I put the pastry ring in the oven to pre-bake the pastry as per the instructions on the packet then I put a layer of puff pastry in the bottom of the pastry ring as per the recipe instructions as I have interpreted them. Then I add the filling and top with another layer of puff pastry.
It only occurs to me when I pull the pie out of the oven and start cutting it that a double layer of two different types of pastry on the bottom of the pie probably wasn't necessary and oops, I should have just used a METAL flan ring.Labels: ditsy event of the day |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 11:32 AM |
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| Color your world with PMS |
| Thursday, September 14, 2006 |
In the deep dark depths of pre-menstrualism the world is just not the same ...
It's a horrid, evil place where someone eating an apple loudly will make me seethe inside, the fact that the default page size on the printer is always 'letter' when I only ever want 'A4' makes me want to throw the printer out the window, a very very small personal space drives me close to crazy when I have to go to the supermarket and people stand too close in the checkout queue, my hair is an uncontrollable frizzy disaster that I just want to shave off, and the grumpy old lady in me says the things in my head out loud (And she's not very nice).Labels: pre-menstrual |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 2:14 PM |
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| My new dodgy music theory |
| Tuesday, September 12, 2006 |
Australian/American Idol is the new-millennium equivalent of eighties music producer trio Stock, Aitken and Waterman. They both discover unknown singers and empower them to release pop-out-of-a-packet music.
(This flash of inspiration (cough) occurred to me while I was at the gym watching a 'retro' music clip of Rick Astley's Never Gonna Give You Up. At the time it came out in the eighties I had a small crush on him that lasted about as long as his flash-in-the-plan music career - Now, I'm wondering why I didn't see that he looks more than a bit uncomfortable dancing in that video clip, and subsequently looks a bit like someone's dad dancing at a wedding. And don't get me started on his trousers.)Labels: my weird theories |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 5:06 PM |
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| Ditsy & Confused - A movie from the mind of Twyford |
| Thursday, September 07, 2006 |
While watching Cameron Crowe's movie Singles with my fellow house-sharer, I announced that the actress Kyra Sedgwick was married to John Travolta. I announced it loudly and confidently (as only a former celeb mag journo can) and then the next day when that photo came out of Travolta kissing a man, I am exposed as wrong, since he is in fact married to Kelly Preston.
It's just because I get those two actresses mixed up, and they are not the only celeb mix-ups that happen in my head either. And it only gets worse when they go and appear in a movie or something together.
I confuse musos Tex Perkins and Tim Rogers - they look like brothers to me - who have just started a joint venture.
I also confuse Andy Garcia and Al Pacino, but I think I have The Godfather trilogy to thank for that. So when Ocean's Thirteen comes out (they are both in it), I'll be doomed to confuse them forever. |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 12:38 PM |
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| Supermarket-shopping stocking obsessions |
| Tuesday, September 05, 2006 |
 I had a recent conversation with a friend about supermarket-shopping-stocking obsessions; namely, the one thing we can't bear to run out of. She can't bear to run out of toilet paper, and she thinks stocks are running low when she has to crack open her last 12-pack. Another friend of ours can't bear to run out of soap and so he (yes, 'he') has a cupboard full of soap in case there's, I dunno, a random mud slide or other personal dirtiness event.
I'm not so anal (Dad-joke corniness alert) about toilet paper, and will resort to the paper serviettes/napkins if my loo has become sans loo rolls. But I feel positively bereft when I run out of sweet chilli sauce. Yes I know - very odd.
Anyway I sent my loo-paper friend this picture, suggesting it would be a positive home renovation - and she responded by giving me an early birthday present - the biggest packet of toilet paper I have ever seen, with 72 rolls! I turned up to her house and she had wrapped it up complete with a big bow.
Now I wonder if her stocking obsession has burgeoned and she'll be compelled to keep my bathroom cupboard stocked with loo paper too ;) |
| posted by Cleo Twyford @ 11:28 AM |
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