memoirs and musings

when my new diet and exercise book comes out here's some of the things that it will tell you.

you can call this a 'sneak peek'.

dieting is a horrible way to live.

exercise is boring and repetitive and it kills your routine and interferes with good habits like lying about and sitting at your computer.

food is good.

no food is bad.

there you have the first 3 chapters.

i can see the jacket sleeve now.

the forward written by oprah.

speaking of oprah, james frey was on t.v. last night.

i am looking forward to reading his new book.

the following is a quote taken from the disclaimer he was forced to include in further copies of

' a million little pieces' after it was exposed as a fabrication of lies.

(gasp. a memoir that was not true?! how could this happen?)

i still liked it as one of the best reads ever but i didn't believe all of it in the first place.

too bad in some ways that he did it that way.

but his 'new career' is proving the old adage that there's no such thing as bad publicity.

" I made other alterations in my portrayal of myself, most of which portrayed
me in ways that made me tougher and more daring and more aggressive
than in reality I was, or I am. People cope with adversity in many different
ways, ways that are deeply personal. I think one way people cope is by developing
a skewed perception of themselves that allows them to overcome
and do things they thought they couldn’t do before. My mistake, and it is
one I deeply regret, is writing about the person I created in my mind to
help me cope, and not the person who went through the experience."

that makes sense to me.

we all do it.

right?

just me then.

his new book is called, "bright shiny morning."

some reviewers like it some don't apparently.

there's a revelation.

i shall make up my own mind thank you.

but i bet it won't be on oprah's book club list!

speaking of oprah.

(again)

her talk show viewers are dropping off.

ha ha that's a good sentence.

what i should have said is that her viewer numbers are dropping.

hmmm, discuss!

have you ever seen an ugly audience member with less than perfect teeth, hair or dress sense on 'oprah'?

no, me either.

do they have a make up artist and dental hygienist on standby?

or do they have a selection line outside the studio?

checking teeth, hair and polyester labels.

"ugly people to the left please."

maybe that's where "gerry" gets his audience.

ok, i really should get ready for work.

i got up early to exercise!!

"once more unto the breach dear friends"

re: my search for a new hairdresser.
i have a hair appointment on friday.

i am SO nervous.

this stylist comes recommended thru a friend's daughter who has been her client for several years.

several?

years?

i marvel at the loyalty and consitency of anyone who is able to stick to the same hairdresser.

how is that possible?

normally i might assume such a person surely lacks taste or self-respect but that couldn't be further from the truth.

how positive!

so far i have never seen my friend's daughter with an accidental page boy, mullet, mohawk, perm, or thank goodness, unusual bald spots.

how promising.

i am assured that the stylist is 'current', friendly and will do whatever i like, if it's possible, and if she knows that it will suit me.

(i like the sound of this last one because it suggests that she will be able to look at me and discern i am a woman of taste!)

how comforting.

she will listen to my concerns and then decide what is the best style for moi and moi's needs.

how amazing.

i've consulted currie and crystal and they have prepped me on how to ask for what i want.

they've quizzed me on my previous spiel and i have been found wanting.

(no wonder i always get into trouble!)

they have armed me with a whole new dialogue.

i must be firm and concise.

i must sound informed and strong-minded.

i should be self-assured but not pushy.

i should show no signs of insecurity or uncertainty.

i should be friendly but definitely not neurotic or overly needy.

(this is a stylist/client relationship killer.)

i must not waffle when it comes to my likes and dislikes.

this is crucial to the development of my status as a 'serious' client.

i must explain, without TOO much detail, how i want something that is easy to do on a daily basis and does not require loads of blowdrying and styling.

and also doesn't need too many products.

it's a bloody minefield.

i am going into battle and i'm gearing up.

i am working on my performance and thinking up things to saywhich will show me in a good light as a client who knows what she wants and will damn well get it.

maybe i shoulda called this one 'once more unto the bleach' instead.

cos i'm getting highlights as well. :-))

here comes the bride..............'s guest!

this is a photo of a royal wedding.
if you click to enlarge the picture you might see that it's actually a picture of a waxworks display but when i think about it there's not much difference between the two really.

great nanny noo noo is firmly entrenched in front of the tv watching a show about people buying wedding dresses.
it is SO her kind of reality show.
that and watching costume dramas or anything to do with the royal family and she's pretty happy.
she really likes a good wedding.
and if it should also happen to be a royal wedding then she's in hog heaven.
give her some hats, shoes, bags and dresses to describe and she doesn't miss a detail.
ask her what camilla parker bowles, princess anne or some other royal matron were wearing at the 'do' for the queen's ceremonial wotsit and she's your woman.
got it all-down to the last ermine trimmed, jewel encrusted handstitched hemline.
colours, shades, fabrics, accessories and fit.
mind you, don't get her started on the princesses eugenie and beatrice and the stupid hats they wore to peter phillips' 'royal' wedding recently.
she does NOT approve.
i quite agree.
they look like a right couple of pillocks.
which indeed they are.
but i couldn't find any pics online of them as yet to show you.
you'll have to do your own research.
try googling, ' silly royal prats in ridiculous hats'.
might work.

we've been wedding shopping today too.
we are going to a wedding soon and we need to buy 3 outfits for her to wear.
1 for the stag and doe.
1 for the shower.
and 1 for the actual wedding.
oy!
pretty high maintenance for an 84 year old but when you get to her age and you still give a rat's ass about how good you look and can shop with the best of them then you know things are looking good.
however she's very disappointed that we don't go in for hats at weddings in canada so much.
what's a wedding for if not to wear a new hat?

P.S.
after some VERY in depth research on my part, if you want to see beatrice's wedding hat, and i really think you should, then go to
http://www.britishroyalwedding.com/category/princess-beatrice/

stand by your beds

this week great nanny noo noo arrives.

i am prepared.

this time i will write down her noonoo-isms.

today i was speaking to her twin sister on the phone.

they are 83.

she was complaining about her ingrown toenail.

and the fact that she'd had a lesion removed from the bridge of her nose.

she said she was hobbling about with two black eyes and a big bandage on her nose .

"i look like swasi moso' she said.

once noo noo was telling me about her niece who had been the recipient of a surprise party for her 60th birthday. she said that to keep her away from the house while they prepared the surprise she had been sent to the beauty salon for a 'manicure and pedophile'

which, when you think about it, makes perfect sense really.

then there was the time she was visiting and she'd heard us talking about raccoons and other nocturnal wildlife.

the next morning she moaned she hadn't slept a wink because she lay awake listening for 'the creditors'.

well i might have to explain that one.

she was thinking 'predators'.

because to her everything over the size of an ant is a creature that's out to get her.

at twilight, she once mistook a golf bag on the patio for a grizzly bear....

then there was the time we took her to the movies and we were smuggling in our own treats.

she insisted on getting her money out to help m.o.h. with the price of the tickets.

unfortunately to do so she had to empty all of the smuggled treats in her purse onto the counter.

'could you hold these please miss?' she asked the surprised ticket seller politely as she fished about for change.

oh yes, and not forgetting that when she gets her hair done she just wants a 'cut and a blow job'.

and don't get her started on names.

she thought we were calling jules, "jewels," and she couldn't quite remember that so she called her crystal for a while.

there's a connection there somewhere.

jenn's boyfriend is dean, so naturally she calls him martin.........

her niece's new baby is called paloma. yes really.

noo noo calls her 'pavlova'.

englebert humperdink... inkebert humpredink

the town of Hamilton, Hamlington

and she likes that 'white stuff' in her coffee. we call it 'coffee mate', she calls it 'compound'.

we have three stores that she mixes up;

zehrs, sears and zellers.

they all sound the same when she says them.

it's best to look at the receipt to find out which one she's on about.

the grocery store that has the lowest prices in town and sometimes a very interesting clientele she refers to as 'hanratty's'.

for reasons known only to her.

and one more, (for now), my former neighbour a lovely french-canadian woman named solange was re-named 'so long' or sometimes 'si-lonse' which sounds like you are telling her to shut up. but politely, with a french accent.

thank goodness everything she says makes you fall about laughing and she likes to laugh with you.

it should be a fun visit.

captive audiences

i'm in the waiting room this morning and they're running late so i sit and read.

then i see the woman ahead of me is on her way out and she comes up to the counter to pay so i know i'm next.

however she's not through yet.

'i wake up every morning with a headache" she announces as she's paying her bill.

people in the waiting room look up but i'm not in the mood so i just hoist my magazine higher so she doesn't think i'm part of her audience.

i know a mental terrorist when i see one.

i peek underneath my magazine and notice her deep purple crocs and grey socks.

'i've had a cat scan and they didn't find anything' she goes on.

there's a statement that deserves a witty retort. but hey, it's early for me.

'do you grind your teeth?' the lady next to me enquires kindly.

you can tell she's nailed the disorder and is prepared with her own diagnosis.

'Nah!' the headache woman replies dismissively.

' i know what it is. it's just that i'm not getting any."

people are edging forward on their seats.

waiting for more.

the receptionist and her pal behind the counter are laughing loudly.

i hoist my magazine higher.

it's 8.15 a.m. for heaven's sake.

i'm reading about britney's relapse and that's enough reality for moi right now thank you.

'oh yeah.' she continues sensing they're hooked. 'i've told HIM, (HIM we may surmise is her other half/husband/partner) if HE'S not putting out then i should be allowed to go elsewhere."

"AND he agreed." she nods

i can see why i think, glancing at the crocs and socks.

'i've asked him why he's not putting out anymore and he says he just doesn't know."

ask me.

the receptionist and her cohort are sniggering now.

'i have a friend'. she continues. emphasis on the word 'friend'

here we go.

'he says that if HE agrees with it" (HE being the party of the first part) "then he's in. he'll help me out.'

the room erupts and now my magazine is so high i'm having problems seeing the print.

now the sex starved headache woman with the very loud voice moves away from the reception desk.

'there's no harm in that is there?'

the purple crocs have turned in my direction.

demanding not just a response but my blessing.

'what? sorry?" mumble i, pretending i wasn't privvy to the previous conversation, which i'd have to be deaf not to have heard.

and i lean forward and my head goes to the side as if i might perhaps have forgotten to put in my hearing aid.

and, big mistake. because she's off again.

only louder for my benefit.

now what can i do?

'go for it' i say.

hoping she'll be happy now and leave me alone.

"whoo hoo!" say the receptionist and her cohort who are now back at their station.

"that's what i would do." confirms the tall blond one with the fake red nails and dried make up in her wrinkle creases.

"OH I'M GOING TO!" says the headache woman.

meaning, 'don't think i need YOUR approval."

right is might.

right?

'only trouble is he's very short and it's going to be strange doing it with someone so much shorter than me.'

well i can see that....

"but hey i gotta get some don't i? just cause HE doesn't want it anymore doesn't mean i have to go without does it?"

while she's been talking two new people have joined the waiting room and they are looking confused and just a tad uncomfortable.

thank goodness it's my turn now and i'm called in because i think headache woman is about to repeat her story for the third time for the new audience.

i go into the office and sit down.

i make eye contact with the person i'm there to see.

she raises her eyebrows and i raise mine back.

oh we are SO superior.

then we both 'tch tch' and she sighs heavily

and she whispers,

'every week it's something with her.'

"can i change my apt time for next week?" i ask.

NOT the NY times book review

well not quite!

i've just finished reading this wonderful book. could be i'm one of the few who didn't already know about it.

it was written during WWII by irene nemirovsky. she was to die before the war was over and before she completed the third part of this story. she wrote as events unfolded: the german invasion and occupation of france. the story perfectly describes human nature and behaviour and brings its characters to life.

it's tragic that she, and then her husband, being jews, were sent to their deaths by the nazis. one of her daughters discovered the manuscript years later. she had thought it was a just a book with scribbled notes. i know you shouldn't judge a book by its cover but this one is perfect.

this book also has a french theme, coincidentally. i think this may be the third or even fourth time that i've read papillon since i first discovered it in my teens. there is no other that provides such adventure and excitement with its glimpses into human misery and endurance.

every time i read it it's a journey of rediscovery. henri charriere, aka papillon*, a prisoner wrongly convicted, so he claims, of murder is sent to live/die in the french penal colony in south america in the 1930's. he describes the places, the people and the events in amazing detail. his ability to overcome and to survive and his attempts at escape, keep you hanging on his every word. he's a natural story teller and must have been an amazing personality.

*papillon is french for butterfly and he bears the nickname due to the butterfly tattoo on his chest.

next on the to-read list is this one. given to me by my reading buddy, phil.

there may be a good reason why this title appealed to him...

i'm looking forward to starting it soon.

:-))

therapy and rehab

i was lying on my bed this afternoon watching the third episode in a row of 'celebrity rehab'.

until today i didn't know this show did, or even could, exist.

but yes, it does.

and it's very awful. but very watchable.

suddenly i decided that because it's a holiday tomorrow i'd better dash out and shop before the stores close.

there'll be no opportunity for shopping tomorrow.

surely i must need to buy something?

surely it isn't right not to shop today when i have a choice because there'll be no choice tomorrow.

so off i went for some retail therapy to my favourite home furnishing store.

only to find that it seems everyone else had had the same idea.

because there was nowhere to park.

drove around for a bit and managed to scoot into a space only to note that someone else i hadn't noticed before was also waiting for it.
i kept my head down in case they decided to curse me out.

parking lot rage is a real downer.

if you happen to be on the receiving end of it.

got inside but i started to worry because, as i said, minutes before i'd been lolling about 'python-like' (see previous post) and hadn't really been dressed for recreational shopping.

i hoped that i wouldn't meet anyone i knew.

too late.

every aisle was a vertiable minefield. full of people that i know and that i don't really want to bump into when i'm looking slobby;

because,
a) today i'm looking a bit like amy winehouse

and

b) i can't quite pull off that look as well as amy winehouse.

the first aisle i'm in looking at art work i hear a voice that sounds a bit familiar and i turn slowly pretending to examine another piece of art work near the lady who owns the familiar voice.

but then she turns too and we spot each other.

"HI!" she shouts and she's smiling from ear to ear as if we are long lost friends.

Oh my goodness. who is this? who can it be? i know that we know each other but...

so i fess up.

"? " i laugh

"IT'S ME! JUDY! she yells.

'right?'

" ...from adult literacy?? how are you enjoying working with the autistic children?"

"huh? i work in adult literacy too. i don't work with autistic children."

"?' she's staring at me as if i'm lying.

"he he he" i shuffle my feet.

"i'm pat....??"

'OH RIGHT! YOU'RE PAT! she yells.

thank God for that! now she knows me but clearly she's disappointed i'm not who she thought i was. (story of my life.)

but because we are both embarrassed now we stand and talk.

for at least 10 minutes.

about people that she knows and that i really don't and people that i know and she really doesn't.

it's not very interesting for either of us but we can't just walk away.

finally we say 'bye, lovely to see you' only to bump into each other in the next aisle over, all over again. and then every aisle after that.

yesterday i went panic shopping to buy my sister a birthday gift.

i had the opportunity to send a little gift to england with someone who was flying out last night.

i ran around the dept. store like a mad woman picking up and casting aside everything that i thought might even be remotely suitable.

i ended up in the section with handbags.

they were either;

too big or too small, too fancy or too plain, too cheap or too tacky, too smart or too casual, too much, as in over the top, too businesslike or too blah.

i was sweating now.

so instead i bought a neat little purse which is actually a lunch bag.

m.o.h. was in the sock dept as i ran around.

he sauntered over looking very pleased with his purchase of a pack of white sports socks to see if i had decided what to get.

" a handbag." he said.

'it's a lunch bag' i explained.

'now i just need something to go with it. a little something to put in it."

"a sandwich?" he suggested.

he's so helpful.