Tuesday, March 29, 2011

Killing Me Softly...

Dear Sara Lund's Jumper,

I feel like you broke up with me.
I watched you for twenty episodes, I saw you chase the bad guy, take on the suits, get kidnapped, fail, dust yourself off and get right back on the horse. I watched you keep her warm as she eyeballed potential suspect after potential suspect and now, now you are gone. I invested in 20, yes 20, hours of you and now you leave my life and I am bereft. No more sweet, cosy, jumper shall I covet thee as I spend far too much of my time off watching you on catch up tv.

Oh jumper, it breaks my heart to think of you stuffed in a wardrobe room somewhere in Denmark, still at least you'll be warm. If I keep you on my screen saver does that qualify as stalking and warrant an investigation? What's Danish for 999..?


Yours sincerely.

I Hate Mantras...

Dear Self,

No one's opinion of you should ever have the power to alter the one you have of yourself, now, kindly remember that. Nobody move, nobody gets hurt...

Yours sincerely,

Monday, March 21, 2011

One Way Or Another...

Dear Males,

Oh yes, it happened, the first casualty of the Spring season, I saw it, walking down the street, like a braying donkey in a field of stallions. Dear males, dear, sweet, sweet, males, there is never; read it again, never, an excuse to wear three quarter length trousers. This time of year sees them seep into the wardrobe of the sartorially challenged (please see footballers casual wear should a diagram be required). Still, at least it was paired with a tight fitting pale lemon t-shirt that gave him nipples not unlike a gobstopper…

I care not for the tribal tattoo caressing your shin, it offends my eyes and insults my very soul; Pamela Anderson has a tribal tattoo. The shin has not, nor will it ever be an erogenous zone, no woman ever threw her knickers in the air at the sight of a pair of three quarter length maharishi trousers. Hard to believe as it may be, an embroidered dragon snaking it’s way up your leg to rest it’s weary head on your left buttock, is the equivalent of hitting the female erection with a teaspoon. I cry foul, and when I say foul I mean why does the eye not pop out of the head so it may caressed with an eraser to remove the images that burn my retina so, a design fault indeed Monsieur Darwin. I am loathe to refer to them as trousers, trousers caress the ankle and frame a fabulous shoe, trousers tell me you mean business, trousers tell me you know your The Kooples from your K Mart, trousers tell me you will always remove your socks first so that I may be spared the sight of you in your drawers and socks. Drawers and socks, it ain’t no fish and chips in terms of lexicon. There’s a reason for this.

A three quarter length trouser always instills in me the fear of a formidable mother, for what grown man would pick these because he liked them? Are you there Norman, come in it’s me, Mrs. Bates, time to get dressed love, let me just take the hem up with my knife. I beg of you Dear Males, pick long or pick short, but stop with the in between, you can’t have it both ways and sometimes when you try, you just come off looking silly, like so many other things in life...

Yours sincerely,

Saturday, March 19, 2011

Tick Tock...

Dear Timing,

It's all about you...

Yours sincerely,

Thursday, March 17, 2011

Share The Love...

Dear Readers,

Well lookee, lookee here, the delightful *s* at Shine Little Light has given me an award. I would like to thank the academy...ahem...but mostly, in the spirit of this award I would like you to check out the three below.

The basic premise being, think of us, the little blogs, less then 300 followers, mine stands at a racy 69, (which my inner 14 year old boy finds endlessly amusing), being your local coffee shop, this way we support each other and go up against the big guys, the Starbucks of the blogging world if you like. You know, the blogs with 18,000 followers who talk about worming their cats, yeah, you know who you are...or maybe we're not going up against anyone? Maybe I just woke up feisty? Maybe it's just a nice way to let you know about some of my favourites? Not least being the delightful lady above who nominated me. The ones down the left sidebar are always worth a look too...

Seeds and Stitches Always informative, interesting and inspiring, me likee, me likee a lot.

Found,now home Never before has one blog been so responsible for making my tea loving, Irish heart, backflip.

Sighs and Whispers Oh where to start, suffice to say, where does she find these photos? Beautiful.

I hope you enjoy, I know I do...

Yours sincerely,

A Black Velvet Band...

Dear St Patrick,

Today is your day, it is also my birthday, therefore, my day too. We have so much in common, in another life we could have dated, in a Thorn Birds you'd need to stop with the whole man of God kind of way. All I know is, sometimes a girl needs a little help casting out the snakes...

Yours sincerely,

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Look Up, Look Up I Say...

Dear Strangers,

I smiled at 17 of you today, 9 of you smiled back and looked surprised as you did so. I would have smiled at more of you, only it became apparent eye contact would be required in order for a smile to be exchanged. It was a simple experiment and my findings lead me to believe that people look down far too much...

Yours sincerely,

Friday, March 11, 2011

Nothing Stranger...

Dear Strangers,

Today, I am conducting an experiment. Today, I am going to smile at you all day long and I am going to count you. I am also going to count how many of you who smile back, it will be an interesting new way to do subtraction...

Yours sincerely,

First Floor...

Dear People In Elevators,

Stop looking at your phone and pretending to check a message that really isn't there. Look up, smile, flirt,engage with a real human as opposed to a virtual one, you just never know what might happen...

Yours sincerely,

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

Oh Karl...

Dear Karl Lagerfeld,

I watched your documentary the other day. Can I just say I love you? A real, true, unquestionable, unstoppable, kind of love. Oh yes, Mr Lagerfeld, I do believe I am crushing hard. I always knew you were a genius, I had no idea you were so funny. And so I find myself falling in love with a gay man, again...

Yours sincerely,

Monday, March 07, 2011

You Know You Want To...

Dear Temptation,

I am trying to stay put for a bit, just a bit, my feet are a little bit cross with me of late as I promised them some time at home and I am made this promise whilst packing a case internally. I saw my feet look at me like they knew what I was up to, but someone once said promise good, promise bad, so I closed the lid and shut the drawer, cursing my toes as I did so. I promised my fingers the same thing, a chance to engage with my brain, to top up my levels, to read, to write, to create, for all my travels, much as I love them, were starting to deplete me a little. So temptation, sit, stay, good dog. We are in the process of a restoration, we've already repaired the first layer, a few more weeks and we will go again for sure, for that is who I am, but in the mean time, let's remember how good it feels to be still...

Yours sincerely,

Thursday, March 03, 2011

A Break From Our Normal Service...

Dear Reader...

Once upon a time there was a waitress, she was of typical waitress stock, smiling, funny, if slightly indifferent, but polite enough to always ensure 10%. One day she woke as usual and prepared to go about her day making lists as she walked to work drinking her coffee. Unbeknownst to her, in the middle of the night her smile had jumped from her mouth and scampered across her pillow to rest in a place until it could be rightfully restored. You see, lately, her smile had been feeling well, I guess, a little devalued. In a world where, lets not mince words, most give to get, the smile had not been getting reciprocated. Maybe it was in the eyes, he had indeed tried to speak to the eyes about the matter, but they were, to say the least, disinterested. So the smile thought to himself, I’m off! This, I realise, is a dreadful tangent dear reader, but you will see an integral part of our story, for what is a waitress without a smile? No more than a woodcutter without an axe, or a fireman without a hose. You do not know her name, nor do you need to, but it is the smile that is your link for the duration of your meal and so we are back to our waitress. She was unaware of her loss as she slept; she was unaware as she woke, as she walked to work and as she worked. A couple of her friends asked if she was okay in tones of concern and she responded with a breezy “I’m good, thank you” yet they didn’t seem convinced. Her customers seemed a little cold and her tips a little down, still everyone has bad days she thought to herself as she bid, what she wrongly thought, was a cheery goodbye. The next day it was more of the same, except her friends seemed more concerned, her customers a little colder and her tips definitely smaller. Still she thought, tomorrow will be better, as she bid once more, what she wrongly thought, was a cheery goodbye.


Meanwhile, her smile was having the most extraordinary time, having met up with a nose and some fingers, which knew how to have a good time; he had decided to take an extended break. After all he had worked so hard all of his smiling life and lately it felt at times like he was being fish hooked on either side for very little in return, not even an acknowledgement. I mean truly, a smile makes no demands, it does not require fame or fortune, it simply requires a smile back and then like a virus needs a germ, it spreads like chickenpox. Meanwhile, things were going from bad to worse for our waitress, people no longer seemed concerned for her well being, after all, how many times can a person answer “good thank you” and clearly not mean it, before people stop asking? Our waitress was confused, what had happened for her friends to change so? What had she done? For dear reader, you will remember our waitress did not know she was not smiling, to her, everything was as it had always been, except perhaps the world seemed to have gone a little mad, well maybe not the world, just the people in it. Until one day, her boss asked to speak to her in a very serious tone indeed. He said her sparkle was gone, she looked so glum, she appeared to have lost her smile and a whole lot of other stuff she was sure was important but she had long since stopped listening, for was it really and truly possible for a person to loose their smile? She shrugged off her silliness but none the less checked lost property on the way out, just in case. Meanwhile, her smile and his new friends had decided to drive across America. Never before had the smile felt so free, smiling because he wanted to, not because he should or worse still had to, for he was tired of a brave face, tired of a stiff upper lip, his new friends merely made him smile because….

Our waitress on her walk home had started to panic; she couldn’t stop the fear rising in her stomach. She held her hands to her mouth and thought the happiest of her happy thoughts, no response, it was at this point she started to look under a few rocks and bushes and while it seemed she had indeed lost her own ability to smile, her effect on other peoples remained, if maybe not for the right reasons. So crazy as it seemed, it was decided, lost, misplaced, mislaid, irretrievable, never to be regained and for the first time, in a long time she started to cry. Oh dear reader, if only our waitress knew the fun her smile was having, eating ice cream while sitting on top of the Hollywood sign. She arrived home to be greeted by her flatmate, Greta, a woman who never stopped smiling, perhaps she stole it our waitress thought rather uncharitably. She started to pull their flat apart, looking everywhere and very quietly Greta joined in, she never asked what they were looking for, she just figured she would know it when she saw it, for that is sometimes what real friends do, they don’t ask, they just join in and hope that it helps.


Our beloved smile was on the road again, in search of adventure, he thought fondly of our waitress but the further he traveled the further he wanted to go, lately he had even begun thinking about space, I mean, the moon in particular, it just looked so lovely and that fella who lived in it, sure he was always smiling. Our waitress and Greta sat in the middle of the destroyed room and started to laugh, well Greta laughed, our waitress made a very peculiar noise through an even more peculiar shaped mouth, for whatever it was, it was not a smile. It was then she realised she was not unhappy, granted she might look a bit miserable but people made whole careers out of being miserable, like funeral directors and trumpet players for example. Our waitress felt strangely hopeful, she could be any number of things or she could spend the rest of her life lamenting the loss of her smile and walking the earth on some ridiculous quest, this seemed less than appealing. A decision had been made, granted it had been made for her, but none the less, it had been made. In the meantime, her smile had started to build his rocket. Our waitress began to scour the internet and newspapers everyday for her new career for it was surely in there somewhere, she had little success and was feeling a little despondent when there it was, like a gift from Santa Claus at Easter, unexpected, yet no less delightful, Newsreader required. She loved the news! She loved reading! How hard could it be? And so, terrified, she went to the auditions. One by one, the girls got knocked out of the competition and still she remained, after all getting the giggles in the middle of a very serious story indeed was hardly the stuff of Moira Stewart. They tried everything to make her smile, at one stage they even resorted to tickling, tickling, dear reader can you imagine? But still she did not smile, she did not smile as she sailed through round after round of the grueling auditions, she did not smile when the producer shook her hand and she did not smile when she signed her contract. She was polite, friendly, warm, but you could not make her smile and so my friends, a news reading legend was born.


As for her smile, he was last seen boarding his rocket somewhere south of the equator and on certain nights if you look closely at the moon and are very, very drunk indeed, you will surely see two of them smiling down at you. As for our waitress, well, she just goes to show you, with good lighting, hair and make up, who needs a smile anyway...?

Yours sincerely,