Quote of the Day

I just came across this quotation from Katherine Hepburn today. Gotta love the woman!

"If you want to sacrifice the admiration of many men for the criticism of one, go ahead, get married."

This lead me to investigate some of her other quotes. Here's another gem:

"If you're given a choice between money and sex appeal, take the money. As you get older, the money will become your sex appeal."

Does anyone want to give me that choice? No? Aw c'mon!

That lead me to check out some more quotes on the Quote of the Day page I found. http://www.quotedb.com/

Here's a goodie

"I believe that sex is one of the most beautiful, natural, wholesome things that money can buy."
Steve Martin

Some more Steve Wisdom

"All I've ever wanted was an honest week's pay for an honest day's work."

And then I found one from Mark Twain. This is like getting stuck in a Wikipedia loop!

"Always do right - this will gratify some and astonish the rest."

To finish, and lower the tone to a more familiar level, a couple from Mae West...

"Give a man a free hand and he'll run it all over you."

"The curve is more powerful than the sword."

Must Be Nice To Be A Muse

I was idly checking out the news items on the BBC web site when I came across this story:

"The woman who inspired one of Sir John Betjeman's most famous poems has died at the age of 92. Joan Jackson was immortalised in print as Miss J Hunter Dunn in Sir John's 1941 poem, A Subaltern's Love Song."

I wasn't familiar with this poem but I was recently looking at some of Betjeman's poetry because I'd been talking to Nat about a quotation from him. I decided to check out the poem and I'm so glad I did because it's lovely. Poetry's not usually my bag (baby!) but I like what I've seen of Betjeman's stuff so I must make an effort to look out more of it.

Anyway, there's a quote in the news story from the lady in question's son - "She never said she was proud to be his muse but she did not consider it a joke."

Having read the poem I have to say if I'd inspired such a beautiful piece of writing I'd be proud. Perhaps her modesty was another of her charms?

Anyway, here it is. Read and sigh away like me

*sigh*

A Subaltern's Love Song

Miss J. Hunter Dunn, Miss J. Hunter Dunn,
Furnish'd and burnish'd by Aldershot sun,
What strenuous singles we played after tea,
We in the tournament - you against me!

Love-thirty, love-forty, oh! weakness of joy,
The speed of a swallow, the grace of a boy,
With carefullest carelessness, gaily you won,
I am weak from your loveliness, Joan Hunter Dunn.

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
How mad I am, sad I am, glad that you won,
The warm-handled racket is back in its press,
But my shock-headed victor, she loves me no less.

Her father's euonymus shines as we walk,
And swing past the summer-house, buried in talk,
And cool the verandah that welcomes us in
To the six-o'clock news and a lime-juice and gin.

The scent of the conifers, sound of the bath,
The view from my bedroom of moss-dappled path,
As I struggle with double-end evening tie,
For we dance at the Golf Club, my victor and I.

On the floor of her bedroom lie blazer and shorts,
And the cream-coloured walls are be-trophied with sports,
And westering, questioning settles the sun,
On your low-leaded window, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

The Hillman is waiting, the light's in the hall,
The pictures of Egypt are bright on the wall,
My sweet, I am standing beside the oak stair
And there on the landing's the light on your hair.

By roads "not adopted", by woodlanded ways,
She drove to the club in the late summer haze,
Into nine-o'clock Camberley, heavy with bells
And mushroomy, pine-woody, evergreen smells.

Miss Joan Hunter Dunn, Miss Joan Hunter Dunn,
I can hear from the car park the dance has begun,
Oh! Surrey twilight! importunate band!
Oh! strongly adorable tennis-girl's hand!

Around us are Rovers and Austins afar,
Above us the intimate roof of the car,
And here on my right is the girl of my choice,
With the tilt of her nose and the chime of her voice.

And the scent of her wrap, and the words never said,
And the ominous, ominous dancing ahead.
We sat in the car park till twenty to one
And now I'm engaged to Miss Joan Hunter Dunn.

I Love The Hoff!

Ladies and gentlemen, the Hoff aint dead yet! Hoorah!

Spam Is Getting Stranger All The Time

What is it with spammers? Sometimes you look at the emails you get and you can't believe anybody would fall for that, in their right minds or not!

I've noticed that dating websites seem to spam the celebrity gossip rag blogs that I am hopelessly addicted to these days. Under a story about how Madonna's marriage to Guy Ritchie is as strong as ever is some weird message stating they think she's really pretty and they saw her profile on a millionaire's dating site. WTF? It's just annoying.

Anyway, I was doing one of my periodical clean outs of my Spam folder in Gmail* and came across one that made me pause...

The subject line was 'become an unexcelled lover'.

WTF? My brain couldn't quite process this concept. With reflection I realise it means 'excelled by none' but at the time all I could think of was that they were offering you the chance to become crap in bed. It must have been all the emails surrounding it that were offering cheap viagra and ways to satisfy your woman that muddled my mind. I was tickled with the following visual image...

There was Juan, exhausted from an afternoon of pleasuring nubile young ladies, snatching a few brief moments between snatches to check his email. "Mi dios!" he exclaims, "Just what I have been looking for. This incessant accomplished and passionate love making is exhausting me. How many are the times have I wished I was not such an excellent lover! I must send these kind people my bank details immediately."

Anyway, here's a picture of David Tennant as Casanova. I haven't seen the series myself but I have just got it for Kirsi for her birthday (Ssssh! Don't tell her yet.) It's not Sci Fi but I'm hoping we can work it into the Sci Fi Sunday Schedule because I want to see it too. She'll probably watch it all in one sitting and then lend me the DVDs though. I don't think she could wait between Sundays for her Tennant fix. Hey ho, I'll let you know if it's any good :o)


*I usually check in case some message I do actually want to read has been shovelled in there. I'm waiting for somebody on GumTree to get back to me about a couple of free shoe racks they were advertising. They haven't though. Sheesh! Courtesy costs nothing. Even a wee email to say "thanks for your interest but they're gone" wouldn't have taken 30 seconds to dash off. Man, I hate people!

Ahem. Rant over.

WTF?

These Prada efforts would set you back $790 at Saks Fifth Avenue but I have to ask why would you bother? They're frigging hideous!

Sigh, Sigh and Sigh Again

So yeah, yesterday was pretty dang annoying. The afternoon wound on at a very slow pace until it was FINALLY time to leave the office. I was off to the Film House to meet Louise and indulge in a bit of classic Hollywood. I'd been looking forward to this for aaaaages, we were going to see Now Voyager.

The crappiness of yesterday carried on because on my way to the Film House the number 35 bus was at the stop on Lauriston Place. This is the bus that would take me right to Cineworld but today I was not going to that cinema so it was no good to me. Typical!

Anyhoo, I got there on time and met Louise and Little Lord Duff in the Film House cafe. Little Jim was not a happy baby (I'm sorry he was like this but it is reassuring to know it's not just when he sees me!) so we had to take him outside. After about 10 minutes his daddy turned up and Leese and I got to ditch the kid and go for some wine. Hoorah! I'm sure Leese won't mind me saying that, she was looking forward to a glass as much as me! ;o)

We sucked back some lovely shiraz and got settled in to cinema 3 to enjoy the movie.

And oh how I enjoyed it!

It was superb. Bette Davis was marvelous, both as the dowdy and downtrodden Charlotte and as Charlotte trying to find the balance between freedom and being a dutiful daughter. Marvelous! Paul Henreid was just gorgeous as the unhappily married architect and Claude Rains was adorable as the kindly doctor.

One other thing I adored about this movie was that it gave due importance to shoes. One of the first glimpses you get of the mysterious Charlotte is a shot of her clumpy, sensible shoes creeping down the staircase and hesitating while she listens to what they are saying about her. "Look at my shoes!" Charlotte cries during her outburst to Dr Jaquith, "They are shoes my mother would approve of!" And when Charlotte has been coaxed out of her shell and a butterfly is emerging, the first glimpse we see of the new, improved Charlotte is a gorgeous pair of black and white heels coming down the gangplank. The shoes maketh the woman.

Brilliant, brilliant film. I must buy it!

April Fool? Ha Bloody Ha.

What is it with today? It's the first of April, All Fools' Day, but it seems to me the universe is having a cruel laugh at my expense today. Sigh.

I didn't set my alarm properly so slept in. I'm having a horrendous hair day and I couldn't find anything to wear because I did my laundry yesterday. Well, anything I really wanted to wear and you know how leaving the house in something you're not sure about unsettles your whole day. The hair thing is bad too, it's all freaking static. So anyway, I had a huge crisis over what colour tights to wear because I couldn't seem to find a clean black pair without a hole in them. Luckily a pair from the wash yesterday weren't too soggy so on they went.

Then I went to Scotmid to treat myself to a croissant, popped one I'd carefully selected in a bag and then watched as it went straight through the bag and landed on the floor. The bag was faulty and my croissant was sitting on the filthy floor of the supermarket. Great.

Then I found the fastener on my umbrella is broken. I found this out when the weather couldn't make up its mind if it was going to rain or not. I put my brollie up and down about 3 times between my flat and the office! I'd also put on a lighter scarf in the mistaken optimism that perhaps the weather yesterday was a taste of things to come. WRONG! I found out I was wrong when I left the house and had the wind whistling down the back of my neck.

Sigh.

And it goes on I'm afraid...

I got rained on at lunch time. "Will I need my brollie when I go out?" I asked my colleague. Her opinion was not. WRONG! I got rained on. My one consolation is it was so windy the umbrella would not have helped all that much and would probably have ended up in the bin.

Then I got back to the office and somehow managed to snag my tights on my socks. WTF? How does that happen? The freaking tights I took so godsdamn long to locate this morning now have a big hole in the foot. I don't have a spare pair of black in the drawer either, used them the other day. Crapholes! I've put some Prit Stick on the hole and tried to stuff it into my shoe but the ladder will probably get bigger and bigger as the day goes on.

And then, just a few moments ago, my favourite pearl necklace (no jokes please, I'm just not in the mood) broke.

Sure, the damn thing only cost about £1.49 in Superdrug and it's the second one I've been through but dammitt! It had to happen today didn't it? What else is going to happen? Actually, scratch that. I don't want to think about it. It's tempting fate too much....