Dear Ever So Slightly Younger Lover,
If you will insist on looking at it like I'm the teacher and you're my student, then your report is in, it reads, must try harder...
Yours sincerely,
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Join The Dots...
Dear Freckles,
We've had a rough ride in the past, you and I. My entire childhood I considered you, to be the biggest burden a person of single digit age could carry. Every Summer without fail, out you'd pop, a smattering across an Irish complexion, which favoured blue as a base colour for it's dermis, no word of a lie. There you would be, across my nose and my mother telling me, freckles, are a sign of beauty. I didn't feel beautiful, I remember trying to scrub you off. All that succeeded in doing, was to make me look embarrassed, I Captain Shameless, with a red scrubbed face. Well, what a 180 we've done, it's February and here I am waiting for the kind of solar power that can bring out a game of dot to dot, upon my visage. A sign from the sun, that winter is over, I'm checking my face everyday and my breath is baited...
Yours sincerely,
We've had a rough ride in the past, you and I. My entire childhood I considered you, to be the biggest burden a person of single digit age could carry. Every Summer without fail, out you'd pop, a smattering across an Irish complexion, which favoured blue as a base colour for it's dermis, no word of a lie. There you would be, across my nose and my mother telling me, freckles, are a sign of beauty. I didn't feel beautiful, I remember trying to scrub you off. All that succeeded in doing, was to make me look embarrassed, I Captain Shameless, with a red scrubbed face. Well, what a 180 we've done, it's February and here I am waiting for the kind of solar power that can bring out a game of dot to dot, upon my visage. A sign from the sun, that winter is over, I'm checking my face everyday and my breath is baited...
Yours sincerely,
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Elusive...
Dear Bad Party,
One day I will go to a party where every one starts to do the same dance, at the exact same time, and it won't be The Time Warp. There will be lycra and leg warmers and shoes that don't hurt, there will be spins, but the good kind, not the drunk kind and I will wake fresh as a daisy the next morning and go for a run. No one will be ill from the crab cakes.
There will be handsome men, all of them tall and all with shoulders. Shoulders? I hear you ask, shoulders I will respond, make no mistake, good shoulders are hard to find. No one will corner me and talk to me about things I don't want to hear or show me things I do not want to see. The next day, there will be no gossip, not a bit, it will be like the night before had never happened, except we will know it did...
Yours sincerely,
One day I will go to a party where every one starts to do the same dance, at the exact same time, and it won't be The Time Warp. There will be lycra and leg warmers and shoes that don't hurt, there will be spins, but the good kind, not the drunk kind and I will wake fresh as a daisy the next morning and go for a run. No one will be ill from the crab cakes.
There will be handsome men, all of them tall and all with shoulders. Shoulders? I hear you ask, shoulders I will respond, make no mistake, good shoulders are hard to find. No one will corner me and talk to me about things I don't want to hear or show me things I do not want to see. The next day, there will be no gossip, not a bit, it will be like the night before had never happened, except we will know it did...
Yours sincerely,
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
La La La La Latte...
Dear Coffee,
I still miss you. When I said goodbye to you on New Years Day, I didn't realise you would still be on my mind all this time later. We used to go everywhere together, I loved being with you. Cold days, hot days, all day, every day. I liked it that even when you were small, you were powerful, the times you were feeling saucy and mixed yourself with chocolate, but mostly, mostly, I think of the times you used to top up with hot frothy milk and we would hang out and go shopping.
I thought I could cope without you, I thought it would get easier, but everyday without you, just makes me realise how long we've been apart. I wonder if I made the right decision, I see you happy with everyone else, I see the joy and pleasure you bring to their lives and I can't believe I just cut you out of my life like I did. I couldn't do it slowly, it had to be brutal, otherwise I would never have found the strength to give you up. My friends have been great, they've rallied around and tried to get me back out in the hot beverage world, suggesting alternatives, but it's no use, they're not you, and you are who I want. Sometimes, when my friends aren't looking, I sniff their cups...
Yours sincerely,
I still miss you. When I said goodbye to you on New Years Day, I didn't realise you would still be on my mind all this time later. We used to go everywhere together, I loved being with you. Cold days, hot days, all day, every day. I liked it that even when you were small, you were powerful, the times you were feeling saucy and mixed yourself with chocolate, but mostly, mostly, I think of the times you used to top up with hot frothy milk and we would hang out and go shopping. I thought I could cope without you, I thought it would get easier, but everyday without you, just makes me realise how long we've been apart. I wonder if I made the right decision, I see you happy with everyone else, I see the joy and pleasure you bring to their lives and I can't believe I just cut you out of my life like I did. I couldn't do it slowly, it had to be brutal, otherwise I would never have found the strength to give you up. My friends have been great, they've rallied around and tried to get me back out in the hot beverage world, suggesting alternatives, but it's no use, they're not you, and you are who I want. Sometimes, when my friends aren't looking, I sniff their cups...
Yours sincerely,
Pass The Brush...
Dear Niece,
The Matisse might have gone for 31.4 million, it's still not worth as much as the picture you made for me that hangs on my fridge...
Yours sincerely,
The Matisse might have gone for 31.4 million, it's still not worth as much as the picture you made for me that hangs on my fridge...
Yours sincerely,
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Oscar Is Safe....
Dear Certain Stylists,
I hope you're happy. I hope in your endless pursuit of everything looking just so, you're pleased you have killed imagination, true style and a knack for the quirky. Another Oscar ceremony, another round of mind numbingly dull shades of grey, black and navy abominations.
No one tries to be different at these things anymore and so everyone looks the same, not good, not bad, just an endless array of bland. Angelina Jolie in another black, sleeveless floor length number with hair that looks like it was styled by The Waltons. Kate Winslet chose to come dressed as my Nan. You have relegated them, and by them, I mean everyone in Hollywood, to the same style, same face, same shape fits all. Lets not rock the boat, heaven forbid someone should take a risk. No one got it horribly wrong, no one got it fantastically right, it was like one steaming big bowl of porridge, when what you really wanted was french toast and maple syrup. I wanted feathers, orange faces, white boobs and diamonds, I don't care about the credit crunch, Hollywood, sure as I'm breathing, doesn't care about the credit crunch, they're loaded, bring on the vulgarity, you're not fooling anyone! I want to be the peasant to your Marie Antoinette, I am outside the bakery looking at the cakes and all you had to offer was wholemeal loaf.
Oh I could weep for the days when Cher rocked up looking like she forgot her pony and Bjork wrapped herself in a swan, a swan I tell you, a swan. Crazy? Certainly. Forgotten? Never...
Yours sincerely,
I hope you're happy. I hope in your endless pursuit of everything looking just so, you're pleased you have killed imagination, true style and a knack for the quirky. Another Oscar ceremony, another round of mind numbingly dull shades of grey, black and navy abominations. No one tries to be different at these things anymore and so everyone looks the same, not good, not bad, just an endless array of bland. Angelina Jolie in another black, sleeveless floor length number with hair that looks like it was styled by The Waltons. Kate Winslet chose to come dressed as my Nan. You have relegated them, and by them, I mean everyone in Hollywood, to the same style, same face, same shape fits all. Lets not rock the boat, heaven forbid someone should take a risk. No one got it horribly wrong, no one got it fantastically right, it was like one steaming big bowl of porridge, when what you really wanted was french toast and maple syrup. I wanted feathers, orange faces, white boobs and diamonds, I don't care about the credit crunch, Hollywood, sure as I'm breathing, doesn't care about the credit crunch, they're loaded, bring on the vulgarity, you're not fooling anyone! I want to be the peasant to your Marie Antoinette, I am outside the bakery looking at the cakes and all you had to offer was wholemeal loaf.
Oh I could weep for the days when Cher rocked up looking like she forgot her pony and Bjork wrapped herself in a swan, a swan I tell you, a swan. Crazy? Certainly. Forgotten? Never...
Yours sincerely,
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