DAILY MAUL

Fellow Doll Lovers Behold!

2011-07-18T18:01:00.000-07:00

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jazz-Monkey-and-The-X-Ray-Dogs/151535578239831?sk=app_131686150237656

Oh Yes Uke Can!

2011-04-19T20:13:00.000-07:00

I love my ukulele. It sounds great and it's just so gosh- darn- it cute! Since I started playing I have actually discovered that many songs (in my opinion anyway) just sound better ukefied (yes, I said ukefied). It is just such a delicious strummy and tinny (in a good way) sound. Songs that sound great include Radiohead's Creep, Talking Heads' Psycho Killer and just about anything by The Sex Pistols.

I am pleased that I am among such historical, illustrious players as Cyndi Lauper, Marilyn Monroe, Greta Garbo, John Lennon, Elvis Presley and Lucille Ball- though I will admit ukulele playing is not their principal claim to fame!

The ukulele originated in Hawaii in the 19th century where the name translates roughly to 'jumping flea', but like most Brits my immediate association with the instrument is the slightly less glamorous, Northern comedian George 'Turned out nice again!' Formby. His syncopated method of playing is even known as Formby Style. I remember watching his wartime films on a Saturday morning (on television- I'm not that old) and being fascinated by his ukulele playing- his comedy, not so much! I think George was most certainly 'of his era'!

Debbie Harry has said she thinks of her ukulele as a good friend and always travels with it. They are conveniently portable compared to many instruments. Plus the thought of Debbie strumming away in some far- flung hotel room pleases me greatly.

If you doubt the ability of ukes to sound contemporary and great, just watch this:

That'll be me some day, just wait and see...

Elizabeth Taylor 1932 –2011

2011-03-24T12:43:00.001-07:00

The world mourns an icon today. Elizabeth Taylor made over 50 films and won two Academy Awards. She was beautiful and talented, but more than this I admired her greatly for her humanitarian work, especially for those with AIDS and HIV; she contributed so much.

Elizabeth was celebrated for her beauty and to me, she always looked like Snow White made flesh. Apparently, her gorgeous eyes were not really violet at all, but blue-grey. This myth was created by M.G.M.'s master publicist Howard Strickling and has served Elizabeth well. And I have to say, in some lights they really do look violet, or perhaps my own eyes are telling my brain to believe the myth. In the weird showbiz way, her obituary in The New York Times today was written by a man who died six years before her. It is a usual practice to write obituaries well in advance and Elizabeth had brushed with death on several occasions past (though had emerged as the ultimate survivor). Perhaps, that is what made her death yesterday seem so unreal to so many. I take exception to the oft-touted statement that she was 'the last great movie star' though. Doris Day is the top-ranking female box office movie star of all time, still living in Carmel at age 88, working with her Pet Foundation.

Personally, I cannot believe Ms. Taylor was only 79 (a quite preposterous statement under any other circumstance) but she just seemed to have been around forever and lived so many lifetimes' worth. I really thought she should live forever. Post- apocalypse there would be Liz and the cockroaches- and you can be sure she would have dressed them in diamonds!

News of the World

2011-03-17T15:48:00.000-07:00

I live with someone who enjoys watching the news. This was completely reasonable until the advent of 24 hour news channels. Now either CNN, Sky or BBC News 24 seems to be continuously reverberating gloom around my living room. I can understand why people (sometimes including myself) feel they need to be informed but this is inundation of the worst kind- my own little pocket of war by the radiator. At least when you finish the paper it doesn't re-open up and continue repeating itself.

The news this week has been especially tragic, and yet Sky News apparently felt the need to add dramatic impact with a John Carpenter style soundtrack over the images of a devastated Japan.

Perhaps they are correct in suspecting the nation is desensitised and numb (due in part, to their own round-the-clock dismal pontification) but the result was sickening. Why would you try to 'zhuzh up' such tragedy?

Having a news channel is a bit like opening a corner of your home to a visual account of the absolute worst aspects of the whole world. You could almost give up on humanity altogether. It's difficult to remember that there are also joyful and happy people living on this very same planet. I would like to hazard a guess that there is at least as much love and mirth in the world as there is hopelessness- but I'm a bit of a hippy dreamer like that! In the meantime, I'll just switch the telly off from time to time.

The Spiritual Sceptic

2011-03-11T13:54:00.000-08:00

Spirituality is a subject that has been raised quite a bit recently. Some might call it synchronicity!

I am lucky enough to have a good mix of friends and acquaintances to make a heady cocktail of cynics, spiritual types and a few with firm religious beliefs. Some are happy, some are less so. Lately I have been wondering if spirituality and religion might be key. Do humans have a God-shaped hole we are seeking to fill?

Sometimes, maybe surprisingly, those I know with a definite faith in organised religions seem most malcontent and those who are more open-minded and still searching for reasons for life are more contented, peaceful, grounded even though they are still technically searching for answers that (let's face it) may never be found in this life. It could be that curiosity is a natural and healthy mind set for human beings.

I have what I see as a good old healthy streak of British cynicism, which sometimes I enjoy and at other times, grates. It is a huge generalisation of course, but some of my love for America comes from the wide-eyed wonder that seems more of a natural norm for the nation. From experience, there seems to be a ring of truth about the British and American visiting Disneyland. "Look there's a man dressed as Mickey Mouse." states the Brit, "Look there's Mickey Mouse!" cries the American. It may be fantasy but it's fun! The British are known for their dry and cynical humour which I enjoy very much; we tend to have a streak of sarcasm that makes for wry comedy.

As a nation it is important for our political leaders to remain publicly areligious for fear of mockery and being seen as biased or even weak. It seems impossible (at this moment anyway) that America could have a non-religious leader, or to perhaps to clarify it further a non-Christian leader. Does this make the British more or less tolerant and open-minded? I would like to think less but perhaps this isn't always the case.

For me it is important to be try to be open to possibilities (and this includes spiritual and practical ones) which is probably why organised religion has never appealed to me. To be fair, organised religions have not exactly encouraged world peace and harmony, though many who follow them declare the essence of their faith is to do just that. How readily then, religious doctrine can be warped for selfish end.

The biologist and celebrated atheist Richard Dawkins argues strongly and convincingly against intelligent design and calls religious faith 'delusion' and talks of atheism as a free thinking school, that encourages people to ask for evidence, to be sceptical, critical and open-minded. Unfortunately, many atheists I have met can be as close-minded as their religious counterparts. Dawkins declares that,

"We are going to die, and that makes us the lucky ones. Most people are never going to die because they are never going to be born. The potential people who could have been here in my place but who will in fact never see the light of day outnumber the sand grains of Arabia. Certainly those unborn ghosts include greater poets than Keats, scientists greater than Newton. We know this because the set of possible people allowed by our DNA so massively exceeds the set of actual people. In the teeth of these stupefying odds it is you and I, in our ordinariness, that are here."

This is actually something to celebrate, and I do embrace the idea that this moment is something to enjoy. Perhaps the coincidence that we exist at all is incredible enough, though this does not stop so many of us yearning and searching for more- which may be a healthy (and importantly) hopeful thing.

Maybe we should celebrate inquisitiveness as a natural state of being, and unfortunately organised religion (and defiant atheism) often appears to answer questions with a definitive firm answer leaving no more to seek . Science answers the questions it can, but for now so much is unknown; it is agreed that dark matter is believed to make up 90% of the universe, and yet it is hypothetical and invisible.

Discovery is an important part of the human experience and spiritually offers endless possibilities. Without a quest for discovery, humans would not have invented the wheel, or space travel or cupcakes, and I would not have the simple pleasure of trying a new food. These are the things that make life better for sure.

Why?

2011-03-11T04:55:00.000-08:00

Firstly, scroll down and kindly watch the YouTube video. Bewildering, isn't it? Talented, award-winning actress Gwyneth Paltrow seems determined to succeed as a singer. Bizarrely, she's as wooden as a forest, monotonous (though to be fair she has mastered that one note) and looks and sounds like an auntie doing karaoke at a wedding reception. Not the most pleasant noise, is it? Aside from the fact the popular, Auto-Tune loving show Glee has chosen to feature a song that will profit a convicted pedophile (and how creepy are those lyrics in retrospect?) they also seem to have cast Paltrow as the most unconvincing rock chick ever.

Milquetoast Gwyneth seems to have become fixated on a music career since playing a troubled country singer in the movie Country Strong. In fact, she has just signed an album deal to release an album of 'country pop' and on this, I have to quote Hampton Stevens,

"Oh, good. That makes sense. Country music, which at its heart celebrates the simplicity of small-town American life, always sounds best when played by a New York City native, the child of a famous director father and Tony Award-winning mom, who went to elite private prep schools and spent every Thanksgiving with the Spielbergs at their estate in the Hamptons. Heck, there ain't hardly nothing the average Wal-Mart shopping, NASCAR-loving, hunting and fishing, line-dancing country music fan loves more than a woman who speaks fluent French, follows a strict macrobiotic diet, married a rock star, was quoted talking smack about America, and—lest we forget—named her first child after a fruit. "

Let's face it, she probably doesn't need the money, though she does have a unique selling point in that not many country singers grow up on Park Avenue and in Bel Air. "I have weathered cold winters, and gone through summers without a drop of rain," she drones. Well, it does get pretty cold in N.Y.C. during the winter months, and of course L.A. is notoriously sunny, so she does sing from her own experiences. As Gwyneth herself tells us, "I think I can feel what it is to be a country singer. I don't come from the country physically, but from my heart's true perspective I can fill those shoes, you know, walk in pain, walk the line as it were...I am an actress but this flame burns from the truest part of my soul."

Unfortunately, hearing her sing, just reminds me of watching Madonna act- I'm disappointed, bored, embarrassed and confused. And with a bit of a headache.

Fears of a Clown

2011-03-10T19:37:00.000-08:00

It appears that a fear of clowns (or coulrophobia to give it its posh name) has become quite fashionable of late. So much so, that in 2006, the Bestival, a three-day music festival held in England, had to withdraw a request to festival goers to come dressed as clowns due to the unexpectedly high prevalence of claimed coulrophobia among the potential audience. It seems to be almost as common as arachnophobia these days and I'm guessing the heavy metal band Slipknot didn't don the costumes in order to look cute.

I suppose there have been many chilling depictions of clowns in film and literature to compound a person's misgivings of the red-nosed and painted folk. The one that instantly springs to mind is Pennywise the Dancing Clown from Stephen King's epic It- a book that perfectly captures the dark and secret side of childhood. In addition to peddling a colourful array of balloons and telling the odd joke, Pennywise declares, "I'm every nightmare you've ever had. I'm your worst dream come true. I'm everything you ever were afraid of."

Sillier is the 1988 cult movie, Killer Klowns from Outer Space, where an army of sadistic aliens (who just happen to resemble clowns) descends on sleepy Crescent Grove, U.S.A to terrorise the residents with ray guns that shoot out killer candy floss (I'm not making this up).

In recent times, we have been spooked by the comic and creepy Papa Lazarou from the cult T.V. series, The League of Gentlemen, though technically, he is a circus ring master meets black and white minstrel, with his exaggerated movements there is a strong element of the painted Auguste about him.

Clowns may ingratiate themselves to children Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Child Catcher-style with tantalising tricks and jolly japes, but who knows what really lurks behind the colourful costumes and heavy make-up.

Perhaps life is scarier than fiction, and it is the haunting image of serial killer John Wayne Gacy dressed as Pogo the Clown that is the ultimate horror.

Yep, perhaps there is good reason to beware the clowns.

Creepy Kids

2011-03-03T15:25:00.000-08:00

There is nothing creepier than a creepy child. This fact has been amply demonstrated in films and literature by Village of the Damned (John Wyndham's The Midwich Cuckoos), Eden Lake, Henry James' The Turn of the Screw, The Children, Lord of the Flies, The Omen and the truly excellent We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver which taps into every potential parent's worst nightmare- unleashing a monster upon the world. My old favourite, Rosemary's Baby does this in an even more literal fashion.

What is it about children that can be so utterly terrifying? The wide, clear, staring eyes, the tiny, mucky, grabbing hands, the slack, drooling lips, the snot-encrusted nostrils, the unwavering demands, or the unnerving fact that these miniature people represent the future of the world- for good or bad? Perhaps it takes us back to our own terrifying days of childhood, where every hushed and giggling group could be planning subtle and devious ways to get you behind the bike sheds at lunchtime. Those anarchic, lawless playground days, that probably haunt every mind to a greater or lesser extent. Children are very adept at appearing to obey the adults' rules while living in a world where only their own rules and languages apply. They run with the pack, can sniff out weakness or non-conformity from a mile away and they will savage it at any given opportunity. There is no more fascist regime than childhood.

Fortunately, as William Golding puts it, 'Childhood is a disease- a sickness that you grow out of.', and, despite all of the adult-imposed manners and morals, children remain essentially feral until puberty (if you doubt this, just take a glance at Suri Cruise), when they turn into another related and equally troubling creature- The Teenager.

P.S. I love children. I just couldn't eat a whole one.

Cupcake Cravings

2011-02-15T13:27:00.000-08:00

It seems the whole world is mad about cupcakes at the moment, which is just fine by me. I have always loved them, though when I was growing up they were called 'fairy cakes'. My mother made a special variety called Butterfly Cakes filled with buttercream and jam with little sponge wings. They were really scrumptious.

The very best cupcakes in the world are (probably) from Sprinkles in Beverly Hills- the very first cupcake bakery. They have amazing flavours such as Cinnamon Sugar and Chai Latte. Magnolia Bakery in Greenwich Village also offer excellent cupcakes, made even more desirable by being featured in the Sex and the City series. Theirs are available in an dazzling array of rainbow colours.

Inevitably, now there are several London bakeries that specialise in cupcakes though none seem to have really nailed it compared to their U.S. counterparts. It may be that, like steak and hamburgers, a perfect cupcake is an exclusively American thing. Most disappointing are British supermarket cupcakes (yes, I mean you Marks and Spencer), suety, dry and crumbly with flavourless buttercream, they could almost put a girl off cupcakes.

My friend Red Velvet Stefanie (she of the amazing Cheesecake Factory cheesecake) provides wonderful cupcake mixes to bake at home- definitely better than Betty Crocker!

Find out more at http://redvelvetstefanie.com/

I have my own (perhaps not so) secret ingredient to make cakes more delicious and that is good old buttermilk. A little in the mix makes the work of difference in texture and tastiness. Find out how to make your own here:

http://www.ehow.com/how_4868843_make-buttermilk-milk.html

This was an ingredient in the very first published cupcake recipe by Amelia Simms in 1796 and with good reason- it works!

There are so many incredible cupcake blogs to explore but here is my favourite:

http://52cupcakes.blogspot.com/

Happy making, baking and partaking!

Be Mine!

2011-02-13T13:38:00.000-08:00

Valentine's Day is considered by many to be a cynical marketing ploy on behalf of Hallmark, chocolate makers, rose growers and the like, but I have to admit it is my second favourite holiday after Halloween. I think it's rather wonderful that there is a day devoted to love and what could be more kitschy-fabulous than a day filled with pink hearts and cherubs? It helps to fill that Liberace-shaped hole in me (don't be dirty) for at least one day a year.

It's a day named for a Christian martyr and strongly linked to the ancient Pagan festival of Lupercalia (devoted to love and fertility) but it was the Victorians that really embraced the day and began the tradition of sending cards and gifts. Of course, it suited the (often superficially) chaste Victorians to send their often provocative cards and messages anonymously and this tradition is often continued today. I remember the frustration and disappointment of my school friend, convinced she had received a precious card from the school heart-throb, only to find it had been sent by her grandmother. But for those two hours she was the happiest girl in school.

I hope you have a good Valentine's Day, and even if there is no one special in your life right now, there is always next week to look forward to- when all those heart-shaped goodies will be at knock-down prices. Lovely!

Fly with Me!

2011-02-03T21:01:00.000-08:00

Two of my favourite things- flying and arriving in L.A.! I think this video is great, so if you have a few moments, take a look.

Waxing Lyrical

2011-01-24T10:48:00.000-08:00

I am practically fetishistic about candles. Or more specifically, scented candles. I have such a weakness for them, whether they are cheap or pricey. Yankee Candle, Diptyque, Jo Malone, Betty Crocker or Poundland, I love them all. There's something so evocative about candlelight (plus it hides the dirt!), and scent can make all the difference to the atmosphere. Sometimes, I even rub aromatherapy oils on unscented candles. A neighbour recently commented on how nice my house smells so it obviously works! It is an odd feeling spending money on things you burn but, hey, it's better than cigarettes right?

Feline Fascination

2011-01-05T15:21:00.000-08:00

I adore cats. Really, really adore them. When I was growing up, we had several of these wonderful creatures and they feature strongly in some of my most favourite childhood memories. Thinking about it now, they were very tolerant cats. Little Bugsy would enjoy a Matey bubble bath with me after a hard day being dressed in my baby doll's pyjamas and being wheeled around the garden in my doll's pram, while the ever affectionate Jasmine was even zipped up into my mother's make-up bag for a little while. They still appeared to love me afterwards!

Throughout history, there have been many notable cat lovers including Henry James, Truman Capote, Lewis Carroll, Mark Twain, Victor Hugo and famously T.S. Eliot. I find it impressive these men loved cats so much, considering the image of the cat-lover is predominantly female. Even Muhammad himself loved cats (though he found dogs unclean) and even cut off his own sleeve so as not to disturb his own sleeping cat!

My own cat Rufus came to us like a furry little whirlwind, destroying everything in his kitten path, yet being touchingly gentle when stalking humans. We spent several weeks keeping him inside before his vaccinations were completed, and Rufus, having come from the countryside and having had extensive, previous experience of the great outdoors was not happy about this. His attempted foiled escapes meant we spent one of the hottest summers on record with all our windows and doors firmly shut. Ironically, when we did eventually open the back door for him, he ran back into the house and took refuge under the sofa. Probably thought we'd had enough of his cheeky feline antics.

What is it about cats that I find so irresistible? They are cuddlesome obviously, but also mysterious, thoughtful and independent. As Jean Cocteau said, "I love cats because I love my home and after a while they become its visible soul."

Variety IS the Spice of Life

2010-11-12T19:46:00.000-08:00

I have not visited Japan (or Nippon as the locals call it) yet, but I really would love to. So much of the culture fascinates me- geishas, cherry blossom, Maneki Neko, Hello Kitty, Kawaii and so much more.

One thing that is tempting me to those far-off shores, nay, beckoning to me like a shining beacon in the darkness, is their umpteen flavours of KitKat (well, you did know I was fond of chocolate). Pineapple! Pumpkin! Pickled Plum! Passion Fruit! And that's just the P's. How about Strawberry, Royal Milk Tea or Sour Orange? There is even a variety flavoured with my beloved Sakura (cherry blossom) pictured above.

The many varieties cause quite a frenzy with foreign visitors and some even collect the bars- also available at a price on eBay. Like me, others still find the candy inside impossible to resist but that's okay, there is even an appetite for the wrappers. I have seen prized collections of hundreds of them, flattened between heavy books to look as pristine as possible; implausible as it may seem, there are avid collectors willing to pay for these too. This seems akin to literally collecting litter but who am I to criticise? A woman from Wakefield recently had her wrapper collection valued at over £1,000.

Tokyo residents better watch out for me going through a bin near them soon. Wearing my Hello Kitty rubber gloves, obviously.

Back & Blogging

2010-11-09T13:25:00.000-08:00

I realise I have not put fingers to keypad in a while, so I am dropping a flyby quickie!

Autumn (or Fall for you Yankee Doodle Dandies) is here again and the leaves are flame-shot and falling. This time of year always puts me in a 'back to school' frame of mind; optimistic, hopeful with just a smidgen of trepidation. Autumn seems abundant in opportunity and I wish you all the best of the season. And I will try to blog more often- honest!

The Irresistible Maneki Neko

2010-09-12T13:40:00.001-07:00

As you may have read, I have a soft spot for Hello Kitty, the kawaii white cat with the red bow on her ear. I am also very fond of her noble predecessor Maneki Neko (Beckoning Cat).

The lucky sculpture (like Hello Kitty) is traditionally a white Japanese bobtail cat with one paw (or sometimes both) held aloft. You can often see him in Chinese and Japanese stores and restaurants beckoning the customers in.

I have my own growing collection; they are just so cute I cannot resist!

Button This

2010-07-25T15:28:00.000-07:00

Thank you for the responses to my Button Up post; it seems I am not the only button lover! I have found the perfect jewellery for me (and perhaps you) - with buttons. I thought I'd share it with you:

http://www.buttonit.co.uk/index.php

I love the charm bracelets especially.

Button Up

2010-07-05T16:13:00.000-07:00

Since I was very small I have collected buttons. My initial collection consisted of grubby, plastic discs found on corridor floors and in the dusty corners of school halls. Over the years it has expanded to incorporate Bakelite buttons from the 1920's and Victorian buttons fashioned from Whitby jet. I keep them in an old sewing box and I'm always looking out for more.

Did you know that there is an official phobia of buttons called koumpounophobia? I learned this at the age of five when my 'collection' rendered a friend's mother immobilised in mortal panic.

I had taken my buttons to my friend's house who I was joining for tea. After our jelly and ice-cream, I decided I would show my friend and her sister my buttons. I kept them in a little drawstring bag (this is making me sound weird, isn't it?) Anyway, I spread my jaunty collection over the dining table just as her mother was bringing in a jug of orange squash for us. This moment is frozen in the memories of my mind, my friend and her sister open-mouthed in wordless horror, her mother ashen-faced and sloshing the orange drink onto the carpet as she trembled. I looked around wide-eyed; I just did not know what was wrong. Her sister whispered tight-lipped, "Please put those things away." "My...buttons?" I asked in confusion. Sister and friend nodded in unison. Shocked, I scrambled to scoop my beloved buttons up and in my haste knocked several to the floor, including one that pinged merrily onto my friend's mother's shoe and came to rest just beside her foot. And this is something I clearly remember- it was a yellow, smiley face button. My friend's mother gagged and ran from this button hell in fright. Red-faced and utterly bewildered I gathered my buttons which were then placed in the shed by my friend's sister until it was time for me to be collected.

I never saw my friend's mother again but a couple of days later my friend and I sat in the school playground, me in my buttoned gingham school dress and she in her zippered version and she explained to me that her 'Mummy was scared of buttons the way most people are scared of monsters' and that her Mummy was sorry about making me feel bad. I was fascinated by this but also vaguely embarrassed for my friend so did not ask any more about it. My curiosity was piqued however and over the years have learned more about this far-from-unusual phobia. I just found this info on the internet:

Button phobia is surprisingly common.

Often, sufferers are surprised to learn that they are far from alone in this surprisingly common, although often unspoken, phobia.

The sufferer quite often believes that they are 'the only one' to suffer from this phobia. Sufferers often report that...

The fear depends on the type or size of button
The fear may only come when the button has 'come loose'
The noise that buttons make may bring a panic attack
The fear may have started in early childhood
The inability to make contact with others wearing buttons
The need to choose clothes for their children that use zips, metal fasteners, elastic or velcro
They can't say, write, or type the word 'buttons'

Male sufferers often find it especially difficult if they work in an office, because they don't like to wear standard office clothing.

They may be afraid of breathing in near a button, in case they inhale the button.

Article by Paul and Denise Douglass

Surprisingly, this early experience did not put me off buttons at all. I'm not quite sure why I love them so, but I do think you can make a dowdy piece of clothing fabulous by changing the buttons. Like all my vintage finds, I find the fact that these objects have had a life and adventures that I will never know absolutely enchanting. Just be aware everybody may not feel the same way...

Survival of the Fittest?

2010-06-29T21:38:00.001-07:00

I have been watching a lot of horror movies recently and have become perturbed at how fit you have to be to survive in an apocalyptic situation; there is just so much running around and zombie fighting to crack on with, it's exhausting to watch.

This makes me concerned enough to consider exercise, although five minutes into my planned half-hour on the cross-trainer, the possibility of a shut-in, food deprivation situation that could arise as a result of a zombie crisis suddenly dawned on me. In this situation, I would have a positive advantage due to my carefully cultivated fat reservoir (my bottom), that would see me through those long, hard months. I decided I would continue my study by sitting on the aforementioned bottom, watching another movie and eating cake. I will survive!

My Lip Balm Hell

2010-06-29T21:22:00.000-07:00

I have at least twenty lip balms but only one mouth. I do not need any more so why do I see these and immediately add them to my 'must have' list?

I have heard some say lip balm is an unnecessary frippery that lips become 'addicted' to, thus rendering them even drier unless more balm is slathered on at regular intervals. Pshaw! There are worse addictions- like my weakness for buying pyjamas. And slippers. And cushions. And cake.

Football Crazy

2010-06-24T18:35:00.000-07:00

England has certainly been getting into the swing of the World Cup with flags draped from cars and windows, young and old wearing England hats and t-shirts and many of us even consuming special World Cup snacks from the likes of Walkers and good old Marks and Sparks.

Myself, I am not completely taken with football- or let's face it, any sport. It all seems a trifle silly and a bit energetic; I mean I can understand the fascination and the glamour of artists and musicians as they are actually creating something but sport seems really pointless to me. I have tried watching it (honestly!) and it is quite dull and repetitive. I find my mind wandering to things like, 'I wonder if my hair would look good in plaits..' or 'Could you keep an armadillo as a pet?' or even, 'Have I had a poo today?'. You could say my mind wanders.

Now it transpires that England will be playing our old adversaries Germany, in what promises to be a thrilling couple of hours running up and down a bit followed by selected team members queueing up and trying to kick the ball in the net from a short distance. Let's hope it goes better than usual. Expect chants of, "Two World Wars and one World Cup!" from the English fans. This chant confuses me as surely it is saying the nation is crap at football and not bad at war. Whichever way you look at it, it's not really something to shout proudly- especially at a football match.

Which brings me to a joke I read today:

"The French give up, the Americans decide to turn up at the last minute

and England are left to face the Germans...hmm. Does that ring any bells...?"

On a positive note, at least I can now pronounce 'vuvuzela'.

Hello Kitty Oh!

2010-06-08T19:12:00.000-07:00

I am a fully grown woman but I still cannot resist Sanrio's Hello Kitty. Maybe it's the cute cat with a bow (perhaps) or the name (obviously) but I can spot a Hello Kitty product from one hundred metres and can cover that distance faster than Roger Bannister with a firework up his arse.

I have been suckered by Pop Tarts, jewellery, bags, tissues, crockery and lip balm. I even have a Hello Kitty skirt for my Blythe doll- did I mention I am a fully grown woman? With a degree for goodness sake!

I just cannot help myself where Kitty is concerned. I also know a scary number of Hello Kitty facts: for example, did you know Kitty has a twin sister called Mimmy? I wonder if she minds Kitty getting all the adoration. This is the sort of thing I muse about. And admit to. On the worldwide web. Buy me the ring pictured and I will love you forever- in an obsessive, pink and sparkly way obviously.

A Sea Kitten by any other name would still smell as fishy...

2010-05-25T20:29:00.001-07:00

PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) are really giving animal lovers a bad name. First they ask the Pet Shop Boys to change their name to Rescue Shelter Boys to "encourage your millions of fans to consider giving a home to an abandoned or unwanted animal from an animal shelter"- little did they suspect the real origin of the band's name which actually does involve animal cruelty! Now they want to rename fish "sea kittens". I feel like calling them and shouting, "Grow up!" down the receiver- but I suspect that might be a little immature. They'd probably admire my puerility and ask me to join.

Real Fun-Sized Treats

2010-05-12T07:37:00.000-07:00

I have always considered the term 'fun-sized', when applied to tiny treats like mini Mars Bars, somewhat of a misnomer. My idea of fun is a huge bar of chocolate all to myself, so I was thrilled to come across this brilliant website which I would like to share with my followers. I am especially in awe of the giant Malted Milk biscuit.

http://www.pimpthatsnack.com/gallery.php

Here Comes the Sun

2010-04-24T18:39:00.000-07:00

The sun has been shining on this Sceptred Isle these past two weeks and I have been surprised and taken aback by the number of people who still attempt to sunbathe at the merest hint of ultra-violet light. It seems that despite the warnings, an oddly chavvish desperation arises that sees ordinary folk peeling off their clothes and lying prostrate to fry under a coating of baby oil. It looks daft- but not as daft as at the end of the day when they limp home, shoulders peeling and backs the colour of baked ham, cheeks hinting at the rosacea that is yet to come. And they do this voluntarily! What's wrong with people? I know the 80s has been making a comeback but surely this is taking it a little too far?

Most Unrewarding

2010-02-21T23:10:00.000-08:00

I have been thinking this week about how much I dislike award ceremonies. Is there anyone who actually thinks, 'Great, I'll settle down and watch these sycophants massage each other's egos into oblivion and pat each other on the back until their palms bleed'? I suppose there must be; the more generous side of my nature tells me it is a nice thing to celebrate people's achievements however I cannot help suspect most of these ceremonies are great big industry love-ins.

For example, this week in the UK we experienced the crud that is The BRITs. I happened upon the repeat of the ceremony when my digital television jammed and rather than raise my (not inconsiderable arse) off the sofa to flick the switch on and off, I sat with cup of tea in hand and cat on lap to gaze incredulously at the patronisingly- toned chimpanzees' tea party unfolding on my screen.

The last time I had seen any of The BRITs, I had been heartened by The Arctic Monkeys mockingly 'thanking' BRIT School in an acceptance speech (before being cruelly cut short by fascistic ITV). I do find it interesting that so many award winners have attended this place and students who attend the school are offered the chance to be in the audience, also that the BRIT Awards heavily support the school providing it with almost £10,000,000 to date. The steering group that puts the show together, is made up of: Ged Doherty Chairman (Sony Music), Jason Iley (Universal Music), Miles Leonard (EMI), Max Lousada (Warners), Mike Smith (Columbia Records), Ben Beardsworth (XL Recordings), Geoff Taylor (BPI), Julian Wall (BPI), Maggie Crowe (BRIT Awards Ltd) and Helen Terry (BRITs TV) so we can expect some unbiased and free-thinking opinions there. I have to laugh when the public are asked to vote for their Single of the Year from a prepared shortlist of artists signed to major record labels! Some choice!

On the subject of BRIT school, there is nothing that can offend my punk spirit almost as much as this: a school where you are taught how to be a pop star. How utterly preposterous! No wonder the music charts are currently filled with talent show dirge consisting of half-baked covers and sounds so riveting and exciting you might ordinarily expect to hear them in elevators.

I really would love to hear a spirit of rebellion coming from the younger artists today- isn't that what teenagers are supposed to do? Malcolm McLaren has described pop culture as a 'crumbling ruin'. He says he expects the next decade will determine whether a 21st century post-karaoke school of pop music will replace the Simon Cowell School of Talent Shows. It seems a shame we have got to a point of homogeny where everything is so bland it is acceptable to almost everyone from grandmother to toddler. Perhaps I should look on the bright side of this unity but isn't it just a little...boring?

The Darker Side

2010-01-27T09:40:00.000-08:00

I have a serious predilection for horror- be it stories or films and one of my favourite films is Rosemary's Baby directed by the great director (not so great babysitter) Roman Polanski. Filmed in the beautiful Dakota Building (home to John Lennon from 1973 until his murder by Mark Chapman, directly outside in 1980) it is atmospheric, rich in dark humour and choking in unspeakable horror. Mia Farrow is sublime as Rosemary, the naive and beset title character played opposite the wonderfully manipulative John Cassavetes. Best of all is the always consummate Ruth Gordon who plays the interfering neighbour Minnie Castevet, stealing every scene she is in and even a few she is not!

Another favourite is The Wicker Man (original version only please- not that awful remake with Nicolas Cage). It is very kitschy and Britt Ekland is dubbed entirely but it does have a creepy resonance I come back to again and again.

Japanese horrors are especially frightening and if you fancy a scare, I recommend you check out the original versions of The Ring (Ringu) and The Grudge (Ju-on), both far superior to their American remakes.

For those who prefer literary kicks, you might like to try my beloved Shirley Jackson, whose influence is felt everywhere from Stephen King to Donna Tartt. The Haunting of Hill House is widely regarded as her 'magnum opus' but I return often to We Have Always Lived in the Castle which I find as oddly comfortable as a pair of old slippers.

I sometimes wonder why I am so drawn to horror and find truth in this quote from Anthony Hopkins, "We are fascinated by the darkness in ourselves, we are fascinated by the shadow, we are fascinated by the boogeyman." But I prefer this one from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, "Where there is no imagination there is no horror." My imagination is truly abundant!

Midnight Fun

2009-12-26T08:01:00.000-08:00

Well, with Christmas over for another year we can now look forward to the forced fun of New Year's Eve. Just re-reading my last post makes me cringe- how did I get so cynical? I cannot remember a time when I was not. Can one be born cynical? I do try to regard the world with wonder most of the time but involuntarily turn into Scrooge around this time of year.

New Year's Eve is a case in point with everyone trying to be super-happy and gay (old meaning of the word- or new if you prefer) but most of us secretly feeling a little depressed and deflated. Another year over, a new one just begun and sadly war is not over.

Growing up with Scottish grandparents, Hogmanay was actually a rather cherished time. My grandfather would put Jimmy Shand on the stereo and open the obligatory bottle of Famous Grouse; I felt very special to be able to enjoy the privilege of attending such a grown-up event when none of my friends were allowed up so late. We would enjoy haggis, neeps and tatties while a wonderful and slightly eccentric neighbour (who I later discovered was a Holocaust survivor, which explains the blotchy number tattoo on his forearm that I was so fascinated by) would drop by with a flask of mulled wine and cakes shaped like little stars.

I think this year I will toast those days and my late grandparents, after all New Year's Eve is the perfect time for nostalgia- and even that ain't what it used to be! May your New Year be a wonderful one.

A Load of Baubles

2009-12-04T05:39:00.000-08:00

Well, here we are in the Christmas holiday season and once again feeling it has come around so fast. There is much to be embraced about this time of year- mince pies, cosy knitwear, gluttony etc; however it does come with one or two drawbacks not least the expense of the whole shebang. Our family long eschewed gift giving and it is such a relief! Instead of buying expensive presents that people often don't want or need, you can buy yourself something really nice in the January sales (when the aforementioned pressies are half price and strewn in a shambolic jumble sale aesthetic across the floor of the store that had twinkled so prettily and temptingly just the week before). Really, when the January sales roll around it's as if the proverbial scales have fallen from your eyes. What were you thinking when you purchased that nifty mug and tea towel set for ten quid? It's like an act of sheer desperation when, at 4pm on the 24th you simply must find something for Great Auntie Maude- a woman you have only met twice and didn't particularly like either time!

Which brings me to the true trial of Christmas- spending an entire day cooped up with those you spend the rest of the year avoiding. No wonder most of us turn to drink.

Another peculiarly British Christmas tradition is the pantomime. I cannot even type the word 'pantomime' without a feeling of dread creeping up my spine. As a child I was forced to have 'fun' at this migraine inducing, technicolour idiot fest and I can assure you there was very little fun to be had. I don't care how noble its Commedia dell'arte roots are, it is like the watching Ant and Dec's Saturday Night Takeaway or Noel's House Party with the volume on full blast and your eyes taped open with duct tape. Hideous. My panto days truly are 'behind me'.

This time of year is great for curling up, watching a film and gobbling chocolate though, and as you may have guessed, these are three of my most favourite things! I consider myself very privileged to be celebrating Yule this year quietly, cosily and without reams of gift wrap; I shall be eating, drinking and making merry on the 21st, and come the 25th I will be counting myself supremely lucky. Season's Greetings!

A Good Vintage

2009-11-22T08:34:00.000-08:00

How I love vintage clothes and home wares! I even liked them when they were plain old 'second-hand'. My teenage experimental years were spent in jackets and twinsets courtesy of Oxfam! I especially remember buying some beautiful, unworn, suede winkle pickers from the 1960's. Buttery soft and in their original box with layer upon layer of pink tissue paper, they were too small by a size and a half. But did that trouble my youthful enthusiasm? Not a jot! I wore them proudly on Saturday night and spent the remainder of the week hobbling about and willing my feet to shrink by the following weekend.

Over the years, I have found some wonderful bits and bobs in charity shops; when I visit another city or country, I always make a point of heading to a thrift store. I have a crystal ball from Salem, a hanging wooden heart from San Francisco, 1950's china poodles from Paris, a 1940's handbag from NYC and a cute rubber dolly from LA!

Clothes can be tricky (always examine for stains, odd aromas and washability) but I have found an Aquascutum jacket (just needed a clean) and a cashmere scarf from Harvey Nichols lurking behind the inevitable nylon slacks and polyester blouses.

I adore the cosy shabby-chic look in my home. It seems I am not alone, judging by the enormous popularity of the cute but crazily over-priced Cath Kidston range. I am still coveting her cowboy print cushions though (Oh, I do love a cowboy!). I am gratified to find really good Kidston knock-offs (though by definition Cath Kidston is an entire range of knock-offs) in good old M&S and (gasp!) Primark. The pretty set on my bed right now is from Primark and looks straight out of Little Women. I often think my taste vacillates between that of a very old lady and a small child- dollies and chintz- but I am very glad to love affordable and often 'imperfect' things. Imagine how expensive furnishing a home would be if your tastes ran only to Bauhaus furniture and Arne Jacobsen egg chairs?

If you read this before December 1st, visit this excellent blog for a chance to win a set of vintage art prints by Jessie Willcox Smith- http://www.chronicallyvintage.com/ pictured above.
Heck, visit anyway for the wonderful photographs alone!

What Kate Did Next

2009-11-20T06:36:00.000-08:00

The model Kate Moss rarely gives interviews and it is increasingly apparent why as she has dropped her Chanel clad size sevens right in it again. Really she should stick to walking up and down and keeping her trap shut. Today, the papers are full of opinions on Kate's 'thinspiration' motto- 'Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels'. It all seems a little hysterical- there was a spot on the BBC news for goodness sake! I can only assume that someone who has this as their motto either has malfunctioning taste buds, or has not experienced the wonderfully diverse foods I have. Admittedly, I have not been skinny since I was four years of age, so perhaps I'm not the best person to comment on whether there is any truth in Kate's motto- though I cannot imagine there is anything that feels better than Viennese apple strudel with whipped cream tastes (oh the joy!).

Today Kate issued a half-arsed apology through a third party- 'For the record, Kate does not support this as a lifestyle choice.' Presumably she dare not speak for herself any time soon, though it is alleged she wept to friends, 'I feel like such an idiot'. So what's new?

Kate obviously uses other (sniff) techniques that help keep her slim and maybe these do help her feel even better than slim feels- at least for a little while, until she wakes up to the wee-stained tramp that is passing for her boyfriend and wonders where it all went wrong and where exactly did Johnny go? Mind you, she's earning more than ever so it's not all bad, is it? Perhaps we should all stand and applaud her for yet another great career move.

___________________________

Ode to Moss

We danced upon the tables 'til the early light of dawn
We fed upon white powder, Jack Daniels and porn
We dressed up to be noticed
Never noticing ourselves
Leaving footprints on the tabletops
No liquor on the shelves

The bottle now stands empty and my nostrils are quite sore
I can’t remember what I said

Or did or drank or wore
Was it such a good time?
Now I’m not so sure
For that was in the early years

Before I turned crack whore

Smile Please!

2009-11-10T04:48:00.000-08:00

I have pretty good teeth, not completely cosmetically perfect by the Hollywood 'bathroom tile' standard but not bad. I do look after them though- brush, floss and mouthwash at least twice a day. I am always perplexed when people tell me they never floss. What are they thinking of?

Flossing is one of the little daily rituals that are really satisfying- not to mention essential. Did you know that if you don't floss you leave 40% of your teeth uncleaned? (you wouldn't just wash 60% of your body now would you? Maybe you would, I don't know but I hope not. ) Plus, flossing is shown to help prevent heart attacks and strokes. That's true I promise, though it does sound rather random at first. Bacteria around the gum margin can enter the bloodstream easily and cause atherosclerotic plaque and narrowing of the arteries. That's a good reason to bother with it but most of all I love the clean feeling flossing leaves. If you never floss, try it and then sniff the floss. I guarantee you will never skip flossing again!

Us Brits have rather a bad (not entirely undeserved) reputation for teeth. Americans even use the phrase 'British teeth' to describe crooked, yellowing gnashers- see Austin Powers above for an example. I can only assume people who use this phrase have never been to France. I was impressed (not favourably mind you) to see TV presenters on French television immaculately coiffed and wearing full make-up (hair and make-up on French TV seems to be taken to another level putting it politely, but that's another discussion) but sporting Doritos for teeth. This appeared to be so commonplace that in a way it was rather refreshing. It was like teeth were invisible. Spend four hours applying foundation, spend a further two working the entire contents of a can of Elnett into your hair, don't forget to wear a hair accessory so large it could be installed as a soft furnishing but give your teeth a quick flick with a manky toothbrush every couple of months or so.

That's not to say that teeth are not carried to another extreme in the U.S. Tooth whitening seems to be a national obsession and the drug store shelves groan under the array of products claiming to do just this. I do think natural-looking white teeth are lovely but I'm less keen on those very even veneers- actually quite aging in my opinion as they look like the type of dentures I last saw floating in a glass by Grandad's bed. A matter of taste maybe?

Ricky Gervais tells of an interview with an American journalist who complimented him on being prepared to wear unflattering false teeth for his role as an English dentist in 'Ghost Town'. These were Ricky's real teeth! "He was horrified that I could have such horrible real teeth. It's like the biggest difference between the Brits and the Americans, they are obsessed with perfect teeth." says Gervais. But my favourite quote on this subject comes from dental professor Liz Kay, "Americans have the idea uniformity is equivalent to looking good. The British character is more free-spirited, more radical." I am proud to belong to the nation with punk teeth! So long as they are clean, that is.

Matinee Idols

2009-11-06T08:30:00.000-08:00

With the weather cold and rainy and the nights drawing in, what better comfort than chocolate and an old movie? I have so many favourites but I am especially fond of Doris Day and Judy Garland (yes, I am a gay man trapped in a woman's body).

A particularly beautiful romantic film is 'Under The Clock' (called just 'The Clock' in the U.S.). Judy Garland is the star playing opposite the equally tragic Robert Walker. I don't think I have ever seen a more beautifully matched couple on celluloid.

For sheer corny exhilaration, I love 'Calamity Jane' with Doris Day. On a recent trip to Carmel, I was tempted to hang around in Safeway in case she popped in for groceries. However, if I did happen upon her, I might be rendered incoherent with affection (though hopefully I would not vomit as I might well do upon meeting Morrissey. Imagine that in Safeway!). Many people are surprised to learn Doris Day is alive and well, campaigning for animal welfare and overseeing the running of her hotel, The Cypress Inn in Carmel-by-the-Sea where pets are most welcome. At the grand age of 87, she has outlived most of her co-stars and remains the top-ranking female box-office star of all time.

Judy Garland is long dead but still radiant in her films. Once, whilst shopping on the King's Road, I made a detour past the small mews house where she died. I felt oddly morbid and quite sad to see it looking just the same as it had in pictures I had seen with her perched on the front step. Like Elvis, she died on the toilet. At least she did not die with her head down it as it is rumoured poor Lupe Vélez did.

According to popular legend, Lupe (a glamorous movie star of Hollywood's Golden Age and one time wife of Johnny Weissmuller) decided to end it all after gathering all her dearest friends for a Mexican farewell feast at her home. Afterwards, she retired to her bedroom to set the scene. Scented candles were lit, rose petals scattered and Lupe who was known as The Mexican Spitfire dressed in her finest silk gown. She swallowed her pills with champagne and lay down as prettily as she could upon the rose petals. She awoke some time later with the most appalling violent stomach cramps as the drugs reacted with heady mix of champagne and Mexican food. She fled to the bathroom and, slipping on rose petals, knocked herself unconscious on the toilet and drowned in the bowl itself. Not quite the scene she was hoping for.

Another favourite of mine is Rita Hayworth. How can anyone make removing a glove quite so erotic? And of course, Clara Bow whose lovely, expressive face I could happily stare at for hours.

As for the boys, I love James Stewart; I have a special fondness for 'The Shop Around the Corner' which was adapted into the musical 'In the Good Old Summertime' with Judy herself. Later, it was remade as 'You've Got Mail' with Tom Hanks (who I see as a present day Jimmy Stewart) and Meg Ryan. Neither are as sweet and magical as the original though.

There is something wonderfully indulgent about movies in the afternoon. Curling up with a cat on your lap and listening to the rain outside has to be one of the best things about November.

Much Too Young

2009-10-31T21:03:00.000-07:00

The (cough) lovely Liz Hurley has launched a website selling swimwear and meat. It is an odd and unbecoming combination but that is not what has caused my disdain. Her swimwear range includes bikinis for two to eleven year old girls in designs not dissimilar to those found between the pages of FHM.
Bra tops on children have always disturbed me; in fact, I would rather see them frolic topless in all their wholesome childhood innocence than coquettishly cover their undeveloped chests in suggestively low-cut fabric that makes hints at cleavage. There are no breasts to cover after all!

Perhaps this is the European in me coming to the fore, as I do seem to be at odds with some of my American friends who find these outfits acceptable as long as the child is 'all covered up' (meaning the nipples of girl children as well as the obvious bottom half). Personally, I don't think children should feel the need to 'cover up' or feel shameful about their bodies. Lawd knows there is enough of that to contend with later. Dressing these naive pre-pubescents in adult style designs is surely sexualising them far too soon.

From a practical point of view it would probably be wiser to dress children in 1920's style tank suits to protect them from the sun, however, I can't find any of those on Lovely Liz's site. I wouldn't mind one of those myself actually...

The bikini shown is from http://www.elizabethhurley.com/ and costs £42. Meat produce also available.

Geek Chic

2009-10-29T11:11:00.000-07:00

I have always found geeks pretty sexy. I'm not sure if it is the nerdy glasses, the corduroy trousers or their way of fixing my computer but I love them. I have never been into the sporty types or the fashionable types though I will admit to a 'bad boy' moment but that was quickly expunged when I was left standing in the rain for an hour and a half, while said Bad Boy purchased drugs with my money and did not return with the change.

Of course, in my youth I would never admit to fancying the geeks- to do so would have been social suicide. It is interesting to note that those geeks seem to be rather successful now!

I'm sure I cannot be the only female who loves the geek- just look at the enormous sex appeal of Jarvis Cocker and I would obviously prefer his intellectual company over Brad Pitt's any day.

Morrissey (some claim him to be geeky) has a saintlike status to me- perhaps the only person I would be starstruck upon meeting. It is probably best that I never do because I would most likely cry and wet myself- maybe even poo. I doubt he would find this endearing.

My favourite TV geek is Moss from The IT Crowd. Okay, he's not exactly sexy but he is adorable in his nerdiness and he has some great shirts. He's not what most would call 'cool' but what use is 'cool' when your hard-drive conks out? Plus, I like a man who knows the difference between RAM and memory (geek joke there).

The more I ponder this, the more definitely I conclude the world would be nothing without the geeks. In fact, I would not even be typing this without the existence of Tim Berners-Lee or Bill Gates. So geeks of the world I salute you- unite and take over!

And build me a robot while you're at it.

Trick or Treat?

2009-10-25T17:53:00.000-07:00

Halloween is one of my favourite times of year so I am getting ready to celebrate Samhain with gusto. I have my pumpkin ready to carve and a headily scented selection of black and orange candles.

This night is sometimes known as the Celtic New Year, so being of hardy Celtic stock, I may also indulge in a Baileys or two. Traditionally, this is a time for divination so I might even dig out my tarot cards- of which I always have a uniquely optimistic method of interpretation!

As a child, I loved dressing up as something spooky at Halloween but I am currently bewildered at the recent trend for adult women dressing up as unfestive slags. There doesn't even seem to be a seasonal connection; I'm not sure what a sexy French maid or slutty schoolgirl has to do with Halloween.

A few years ago I spotted several Steve Irwin costumes complete with stingrays (mostly on young boys and at least themed around 'death', I suppose). That year, I was also privileged enough to encounter a lone female Steve Irwin of around forty five years of age, wearing only khaki, bum-skimming shorts and a stingray to protect her (not immodest) modesty. The stingray was even coiled around her upper thigh forming a sort of sexy, stingray garter- very impressive.

I am truly fascinated by the Mexican El Día de los Muertos which actually takes place for two days after Halloween. Personally, I think that the dead are not celebrated enough in our culture and I love the idea of decorating graveyards with ribbons and offerings, even picnicking there, because if life is a theme park, the theme probably is death so we might as well have a bit of fun with it. Even more appealing to me is the practice of making dolls to resemble the dear departed; these are considered to bring great luck. I would like to place these in my guests' bedrooms (perhaps under the duvet) as an extra special surprise!

Have a great Halloween.

Tumbleweed Moment

2009-10-24T18:39:00.000-07:00

I have nothing to say.

The Kids Are Not Alright

2009-10-23T13:01:00.000-07:00

Can there be anything more terrifying than a child actor? More specifically a child actor in an advert? Two that strike fear in my heart are the badly dubbed, Glade child with his backpack and the weird, gargoylian girl child from the Haribo advert.

"I'm going to do a poo at Paul's." the first declares to his bewildered mother usually while I am eating (though admittedly that is most of the time). I am curious to know what exactly is in that backpack. Four pack of toilet roll? An enema kit? War and Peace to read during that extra long bowel movement? It troubles me. But not nearly as much as the mental image of the poor, beset mother of Paul opening the door to find yet another street-wandering urchin preparing to shit in her fresh scented bathroom.

The most terrifying child to ever be caught on film however, is the lisping female troll baby in the Haribo advert, who demands her father (if indeed this mini monster even has a human father), "Sign the confession!" (or ''fession' as she unadorably calls it). This has actually put me off the delicious gummy sweets as now I cannot even think of them without my ovaries shriveling and my womb sealing shut. Unfortunate.

This Little Piggy Stayed at Home

2009-10-23T05:38:00.000-07:00

How are you all feeling about swine flu? I'm not sure if we should be really worried or just semi-nonchalant about the whole thing. I had a regular flu jab today and was told the H1N1 jab will be available in a couple of weeks. Of course, now I am reading that the vaccine may trigger the brain disorder called Guillain-Barre Syndrome. GBS attacks the lining of the nerves, causing paralysis and inability to breathe, and can be fatal. Which cannot be a good thing as, to quote wise Brooke Shields, "If you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life.”. So what do we do? I'm certainly going to avoid kissing any pigs this winter.

I Scream for Ice Cream!

2009-10-21T22:06:00.000-07:00

I just want to bemoan the fact I can't get all the fabulous flavours of Ben & Jerry's and Häagen-Dazs ice cream in the UK. I suppose we do have more flavours of crisps though...

Dolly Mixture

2009-10-21T19:01:00.000-07:00

I am far too old for dolls but I absolutely love them. Fat ones, thin ones, cute ones or creepy ones, I am an equal opportunity doll lover. My special favourite is Blythe. For those of you unfamiliar with her, she has an enormous, over sized head and huge eyes that change colour when you pull on a cord attached beneath her hair. She has been described as looking like 'Barbie with elephantiasis' which I feel is rather unfair.

Some people have even said I look like her which, when you read the former description does not seem like a compliment, but I take it as one nonetheless! I am particularly fond of red haired Blythe dolls of which there seems to be an ever-expanding proliferation. These dollies do not come cheap and I am among the many who have fallen under her wide-eyed spell, willing to pay admittedly preposterous prices for rarities or customised dolls.

Dolls do not have to be expensive for me to fall in love with them. For example, I have a two dollar, rubber baby doll with wings that I found in a curio shop in LA and he is very dear to me though admittedly he seems to creep everyone else out!

There is an ancient Japanese belief that even inanimate objects have spirits and human shaped dolls are imbued with a soul therefore must be disposed of in a respectful, purifying ritual. This Karakuri tradition is the reason for the annual Ningyo Kuyo ceremony which is a funeral for outgrown dolls. Buddhist monks and doll donors offer sincere prayers of gratitude for the joy and friendship brought by the dolls before they are burnt in a ritualistic funeral pyre at the temple. This seems only fitting for these loyal companions and confidantes.

It moves my imagination when I see a past beloved doll in a charity shop; I wonder what sort of home it once had and what secrets it might have been whispered. If it has a particularly eerie or engaging expression it might come even come home with me and surprise my visitors!

My Interview Hell

2009-10-21T18:26:00.000-07:00

Interviews can be excruciating can't they?

One that sticks in my memory after too many years took place on a hot July afternoon. After waiting in a stuffy reception, I was ushered before a panel of stern sourpusses- four in all. Their eyes bore into me like glass drill bits. The room was hot but far more pleasant than the reception had been, as two very large windows were open wide. I sat before them wondering if I should cross my legs or not.

The woman in the centre started to ask me questions in a voice uncannily similar to that of the teacher from Charlie Brown. As I opened my mouth to answer, an enormous (I'm talking prehistoric sized here) bumble bee flew in through the window closest to my chair and made a literal beeline for me. I must have been wearing a particularly enticing perfume that day because the huge hairy fellow threw himself against my ear with the passion of Rasputin. Filled with panic, I lost the capacity for intelligent speech and waved my arms frantically! Some weird electrical impulsive connection between my brain and voice box ejected these words from my lips at hysterical top volume- "Big Buzzy! Big Buzzy! BIG BUZZY!"

The sourpusses remained unmoved and just watched me flapping and yelling for what seemed like an eternity. Needless to say I was not offered the position.

I Should Cocoa

2009-10-21T12:03:00.001-07:00

Chocolate. Is there a more beloved food in all the world? I think even cheese would have a hard time beating chocolate to the number one spot. It raises serotonin levels in the brain and scientists claim it can lower blood pressure. It is even made by a delicious sounding process called 'conching' which produces that lovely smooth mouth-melting texture.

When I was a child I was absolutely enraptured by Roald Dahl's Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I was mesmerised by the very idea of owning a chocolate factory. I would place pieces of chocolate around my bedroom and imagine I was surveying my own factory and of course, sampling the delights. Once I forgot I had placed a square (Cadbury's Dairy Milk) on my bed and awoke to what appeared to be a 'dirty protest' all over my sheets. Which brings me to the old fashioned hotel custom of placing a chocolate on the pillow. I have heard of this practice many times but experienced it only once- in Rome accompanied by a little cloud shaped note bidding me a 'Buona Notte' from someone named Maria. I found it rather delightful and whimsical, like towels folded into swan shapes and neatly folded toilet paper ends. I do appreciate that bedtime after teeth brushing may not be ideal for chocolate consumption but when in Rome...

Copper Top

2009-10-19T19:29:00.000-07:00

I admit it, I have a 'thing' for red hair. Gingers are much mocked and maligned genetic mutants but there is something about that fiery hue I love. I'm afraid orange hair does not naturally sprout out of my scalp so I have to buy the magic formula in a bottle; it seems I am in good company though. Fake redheads have included:

Clara Bow

Rita Hayworth

Lucille Ball

Cynthia Nixon

Kate Winslet

Gillian Anderson

Christina Hendricks

The latter has apparently been dyeing her hair red since the rather implausible but totally understandable age of ten. With some experts say that natural redheads could be gone as early as 2060, I feel it is also my duty as a rutiluphile to keep reaching for the dye. As wise Lucille Ball said, "Once in his life, every man is entitled to fall madly in love with a gorgeous redhead." But some might prefer Bruce Springsteen's take on this, "It takes a red-headed woman to get a dirty job done!" It is no coincidence that Ginny (all natural incidentally, though Bonnie Wright who plays her is not) gets Harry in the end!

Chips are Down

2009-10-19T18:57:00.000-07:00

Just a small one, but why are American crisps so tasteless and available in such limited flavours? As a Brit I appreciate the awesome talent the USA has for food (especially junk food) but the crisps taste like they came from Happy Shopper circa 1987. The Cheetos are like the horrible fake Wotsits we got at school discos. They are pants. Things America does well are:

Hamburgers (obviously)
Trail Mix (okay, a bit left field but I love it)
Steak (generally all cow parts)
Lobster
Shrimp (big juicy ones not our piddly Prawn Cocktail variety- see how quickly my focus has returned to crisps!)

Salads- especially in California

Fruit- ditto above
ALL desserts

One of the main reasons I love visiting the States is the food. Watch out for me waddling through customs sometime soon.

Twin Peaks

2009-10-19T11:24:00.000-07:00

After weeks of thinking about it I have actually created a blog. I don't even have a specific subject so I am hoping it will come as I write. My idea is to create a brief daily entry to give you a little bit of Kitty, then on Sundays I will summarise the week in The Maul On Sunday.

Currently being publicly mauled are The X Factor twins, John and Edward Grimes. They are appalling, their act is creepily incestuous and I'm pretty sure they cannot sing however I cling to the hope they will win The X Factor and put an end to the whole sorry affair. Even Simon has declared their winning would be utterly disastrous for the show. Good. I'm sick of the bland homogenised pap The X Factor and the like are responsible for. Should teenagers really hope to emulate these would-be cruise cabaret singers warbling their umpteenth cover version and stretching two syllables into nine? I say no! Where is your youthful punk spirit? Where is your metaphorical two fingered salute to your parents' generation? Where did it all go so wrong?

So I say, "Go twins!", you may be Louis Walsh's ideal wank fodder but for the rest of us you represent hope! Kids today, eh?