Ania M

I went on a rare excursion to the cinema today. I don’t normally bother because there really aren’t many films that I want to see desperately enough not to wait until the come out on TV or DVD, and thus not have to endure the eardrum-shattering volume at which they must be played to drown out the rustling, chomping and chattering in the auditorium. (Of course, one’s one rustling and chomping tends not to be an issue).This movie was special though and demanded to be viewed on the big screen, albeit not in glorious Technicolour, since it was black and white. Yes, you guessed it, I went to see The Artist. (more…)

As you may be aware from recent posts, we have been migrating from using the old Windoze-based kit to Macs. One unfortunate side effect of this is that there is now not a single functioning printer in the house…out of four.

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An apple a day is supposed to be healthy, but I can think of several reasons why this may not be the case. Let me give you an example:

We’re sitting in the living room on Saturday afternoon and the conversation goes something like this: (more…)

We were watching the Top Gear Christmas Special repeat the other day. The one where they go off to misbehave in a tenuously transport-related way in India. Yes, I know Clarkson is a bit of an arse and it’s all just big boys playing with toys and being silly, but it’s funny.* Truth be told, I sometimes rather envy them having a job where you can just muck about being as stupid as you can get away with (and then some) while getting paid rather well for it.

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I should warn you (or possibly reassure you, depnding on how you feel about this topic) that this post has very little to with Astrology. January is the month of Capricorn, however, and the word play in the title amused me 🙂

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I’m always a little depressed on New Year’s Eve. It has never been an occasion that particularly fills me with the urge to celebrate. Christmas, which is usually the fun part, is over, and all there is to look forward to is the artificial marker of midnight to mark the passage into another year. Another year that begins with two months of bleak winter, a return to work/school/reality, financial and often literal belt-tightening, as most of us begin the lengthy slog to lose the lbs gained over the festivities and it all kicks off with a stonking hangover* and a tongue that badly needs a shave.

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So what did I get for Christmas?

I got lucky, that’s what 😀  See? It says so here –>

The card is from the rather lovely Vintage Erotica Tarot, just one of my many Christmas presents and the source of many of the previously mentioned giggles 🙂 In case you can’t see it properly, the card is The Wheel and is subtitled “You Are Lucky”, which pretty much sums up how I feel about life at the moment.

This deck is a collection of, as you might reasonably expect, vintage erotica – lovely original sepia toned pictures of un-airbrushed ladies with naturally shaped bodies and plush, luxuriant lady beards (no Brazilians here, or if there are, it’s due to nationality rather than nether region hairstyling).

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Was this how your Christmas went? Or is that just the stuff of soap operas where everyone on the street/square/close has the kind of issues that make your toes curl?

Did your spouse have you fingering the carving knife longingly? Did your children turn you into a shrieking harpy? Was your head in danger of exploding like an overfilled balloon? Did the relatives have you reaching for the gin? Were you desperate for it all to be over for another year?

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I found myself posting on Facebook last night in response to the deluge of arty-farty perfume ads that pervade our TV viewing at this time of year. Look beyond the obvious glamour and artiness and you have to wonder about some of them: “What the hell were they thinking?”

There is one, in particular that has caught my attention, but for all the wrong reasons, I suspect. I’m afraid I can’t say what it was an advert for, not because I don’t want to name the product , but simply because I don’t know. Adverts tend to leave me apathetic* or bemused, in this case, the latter.

So I will just have to describe it. Here’s how it went:

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I am in the Christmas spirit. Appoximately a pint into the Christmas spirit. In my case, an earlier trip to the supermarket to lay in stocks for Christmas included a bottle of Southern Comfort, which I subsequently combined with a bottle of Crabbies, about half and half.

I’m not normally driven to hit the bottle, but it’s Christmas and, at times, Christmas is really quite depressing. Well, no, that’s not strictly true, it’s the build up to Christmas that’s depressing. The relentless “arthouse” adverts for perfume, the unremitting commercialism,  not to mention the certain knowledge that your Christmas grocery shop would feed a small village (and not even a starving African one) for a month and will probably take considerably longer to lose the weight you’ll gain from the over-indulgence.

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