Vandalism ventures into a gray (or pink) area

I am not a fan of vandalism and I don't think many other people are either.

I am not a fan of graffiti although some can be seen as art forms or social statements. "The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls ... and tenement halls."


While riding the morning bus this week and daydreaming as we waited in traffic, my eye caught an interesting sight.  A billboard for a local rock station had been vandalized.  What was interesting was that the larger than life image of scantily-clad, loose-looking rock and roll chicks had been splattered with pink paint.

Since I happened to have my new camera in my bag of tricks, I took the opportunity to snap a photograph.  

As the bus rolled on, I quietly thanked that vigilante for virtue.  I am far from a prude but I think there are too many public displays of skin and kinkiness invading our communities, assaulting our eyes, ears and psyches. If people want to experience naughty sensations, they know where to look, where to go.  It is troubling that these images are being seen by children or boys who may develop distorted views of what women want. 

Obviously, I am not of the target audience or gender for most of these ads. I wonder if the majority of people who have to encounter these images are in that demographic or appreciate the blatant, visual titillation.

I wonder about the virtue of those skinny, scantily clad ladies - and if a couple of them are natural blondes or... if the chemicals have affected their good judgement.

T

On birthdays, aging and that "joie de vivre"

My birthday is coming up.   I hesitate to announce it since I don't like too much attention.

Considering my chronological age, I can confidently state that I still possess my original teeth, joints, fingernails, breasts and hair.  

I am though having difficulty discerning the difference between what is a hot flash and what is a reaction to recent weeks trapped in an unbearably sticky summer.


On the one hand, my front teeth seem too big, and my breasts seem too small. Heard this since adolescence...

On the other hand, the joints are relatively flexible and the hair is still a healthy, natural blonde mane sans des produits cosmétiques. 

On neither hand are bangles, rings, fake nails or polish.    

I wonder how women can function with fingernails longer than an eighth of an inch?  Is that hygienic or safe?  Is it even functional?  I'd be afraid of hurting myself or scratching a male companion.  Oh, right.  It's coming back to me...

And the colour - how the heck do you ensure the nail colour doesn't clash with your outfit choice each day?  I suppose one could make exceptions as an Olympic athlete - as long as it goes with the bronze, silver or gold! 

Who has the time or expendable income to frequently apply toxic substances and artificial colours.  Then there's the stuff you need to remove the polish a few weeks later. It is a rare occasion that I will apply a thin, clear layer after a quick trim and filing.  At least once it starts chipping, it's not as noticeable as with "cherry red" or "goth black".  The whole thing seems like a waste of resources and time - time I could spend reading or napping!

Speaking of artificial colour jobs: In the past two weeks five people have complimented or challenged the legitimacy of my natural blondness.  Why should it be so surprising that I don't colour or bleach my hair?  The only reality-altering liquid that comes out of a bottle in my petit apartment is wine and sometimes that just makes me giddy, sentimental or more apt to converse en Français.

Yep. Being a natural blonde has been a blessing and a curse for many years.  Poor me.  It has also been an assumed invitation for family and friends to send me copious emails containing dumb blonde jokes. Sigh.

Without seeming too vain, I hope that similar to my dear old Dad's, my hair will gradually change to platinum then morph into a mature silver-gray by the time I reach retirement age.  I also hope to inherit his folksy disposition, keep my mind and hands skillfully busy and continue to maintain a sense of awe.  

According to Psychology Today, if you want to know your true age, don't look at the calendar.  Don't do it!  Put it away.  (I have the same advice for bathroom scales.)   The article states there's a difference between your biological and psychological age.  I don't mind growing old, as long as happens gracefully.  Sometimes I just don't want to grow up. 

Again, I hesitate to announce MY UP-COMING BIRTHDAY  since family and friends may feel compelled to cover the cake with forty-some candles.  Considering that could be a fire hazard during our drought-like conditions, I advise them to use only one candle.  Tell them to make sure the CAKE contains CHOCOLATE.  A bottle of wine is optional.

- - - 

Goodness!  How I have rambled on.  Is that a sign of aging or an inane urge to share my deep blonde thoughts?  

Thanks for dropping by.  If you liked this blog entry, you can sample wine excerpts from my novel, The Year of the Rabbit.  

(Au sujet du Français, j'ai besoin de quelque gens qui peuvent m'aider traduire le roman en Français (gratuit) durant 2013 et peut être 2014.  C'est fou - ou un bon idée?)


T

Stop over-thinking things!

That's the key message I received after reading "Middle Age" (Art of Living) by Christopher Hamilton.  Too much navel gazing and thinking-thinking can make you depressed!

I had picked up "Middle Age" at a used book store while out on Rideau Street with a friend last month.  At first, my choice was on a lark as we chuckled at the book's title and the fact that each of us were either in the middle of middle age or starting to feel it.  I have recently been going through changes in different roles and areas of my life.  Although there are many life change books aimed at women, I chose to try reading this one written by a man.  Meh... It was on sale.  It was also thin and compact enough to read on my daily commutes. 

The book was a difficult, slow read at the beginning, enduring this man's lengthy tale about his family, his strange childhood and the impact of the revelation about his real, biological father.  I gradually appreciated and related to his comments about religion, faith, philosophy, family and relationships.

The focus was that he felt the need to re-evaluate who he was after hearing the news about his real father, confirming  suspicions of his mother's dalliances in the early years.  Was he who he was - who he had grown up as?  How or why would one feel any different knowing this news?  Talk about serious navel gazing and philosophical questions! 

I am curious to hear comments from visitors if you at some time wondered about your family and if you had been adopted - or switched at birth?  I used to.  I sometimes wished it.  I would look up at the stars at night while wandering outdoors, avoiding family outbursts and wished I could be taken away by some benevolent alien race.

In my novel "The Year of the Rabbit", twelve year-old Sera Fletcher eventually discovers who is her real, biological father.  Does it change her view on life?  Does she look at Matthew Fletcher in a different light?  Could she forgive him for his neglect since he had learned the shameful, disappointing news himself?  Well... you'll have to read the book. 

So, thank you very much for reading this far.  I am really flattered.  If you'd like a free copy of the Ebook version of "The Year of the Rabbit", hop on over to this page by July 1st. 

In addition to performing glamorous domestic duties and reviewing my short term and long term goals, I would like to get back to writing in my pen and paper journal. That's where I record the mundane as well as my goals and deep reflections on life.  I will certainly return to this blog on occasion, offering my deep blonde thoughts. I hope you will return to read them :o)

T

Middle Age (Art of Living)

• http://www.amazon.co.uk/Middle-Age-Living-Christopher-Hamilton/dp/1844651657
• http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2009/jun/20/middle-age-christopher-hamilton

A Favourite Blonde Author Offers Straight and Narrow

New Mystery by Sigrid Macdonald, Straight and Narrow

Several years ago, Sigrid Macdonald published a book called D’Amour Road, which was loosely based around the true-life disappearance of an acquaintance of hers in Ottawa. She has since discontinued that book and rewritten large parts of it. The final outcome is Straight and Narrow, a darkly witty mystery with complex subplots.

Right before her fortieth birthday, Lisa Campana goes missing. Her best friend, Tara, is devastated and bewildered. Has Lisa broken her sobriety or has she gone into hiding because she is afraid to tell her partner, Ryan, that she's pregnant and he may not be the father? Worse, Ryan has a history of battery. Could he have harmed her? Take a roller coaster ride with Tara Richards as she falls headfirst into a comical midlife crisis while dealing with the grave situation of searching for her missing friend.

I was one of the earlier readers of D'Amour Road way back in  2007.  Seems like a long time ago in Internet measurements.  I liked the fact that the National Capital FreeNet was mentioned as a resource during the search for Lisa.  

You can get the Straight and Narrow Kindle edition at Amazon.   

Sigrid is one of my favourite blonde writers - and friends.  Read about her other books and her services at the Copy Editing and Critiques blog. 

Can't buy her love

Well, we can't avoid it.  The most heart-breaking and emotionally-charged celebration is sneaking up on us.  Yaaayyyy...

We're constantly bombarded with ads for what's hot, what's new, what happy lovers should look like and what's expected of sweethearts to give.  

For us single, jaded, older gals, it isn't a very welcomed time of year - except for the discounts on chocolate come February 15th.  Can I just curl up and sleep through that dreadful day?


Guys, hold off on the flowers.  Save a rose bush – buy your lover a book. Save a tree – buy an Ebook!   Even better, how about a FREE Ebook?  Sound good?  Better than some shiny bling? Well, you can get a free copy of my 2011 novel, The Year of the Rabbit until the clock strikes midnight on Valentine's Day.  Visit this page and follow the easy instructions.


Thanks for stopping by and not waking the grumpy old puss.  You can just leave that box of chocolates by the door.
  
T


 

What's your sign?

I hear that was a pickup line in the 1970s, "What's your sign?".  I suppose it was a good ice breaker that would hopefully lead into a more meaningful conversation or a night of hedonism  with a complete stranger. 

Well, since you were going to ask ;o^  I am a Leo.

I am a Leo according to one Zodiac sign and a Rabbit according to another.  We don't have time to delve into the complexities of my personality type but some may assume that due to the Rabbit and Lion combination, I may be a bit of a passive-aggressive. 

According to one astrological source, the characteristics for Leo include:

• Personal magnetism (Really?)
• Ambitious (Meh...)
• Strength of purpose
• Creative (Yes!)
• Never shy away from the limelight (Really?)
• Warmth and enthusiasm
• Eager to see their projects through to completion  (Check!)
• Generosity of spirit
• etc.

Leo's element:  Fire

According to an Epoch Times article, Rabbits are:

• Creative, Compassionate, and Sensitive
• Sophisticated 
• Courteous
• Stylish (Pfft!)
• Good Communicators
• Generous
• On the Timid Side
• etc.

The 1963 Rabbit's element:  Water  (Ummm, see the Fire reference in Leo above...)

In my novel The Year of the Rabbit, Sera Fletcher is also coincidentally a Leo and a Rabbit. You could venture to say that she is a derivative of her creator. 

You can follow a private discussion between Sera and Father Gio when he manages to invite himself to sit at her personal booth.  First, read this earlier excerpt about the Red Hare Restaurant. 

August 8th is Sera's birthday.  Mine is a few days later.  Kindly read my ramblings in another blog for a gift suggestion.  

I am delighted that you read this far.   So... do you come here often? ;o)  

T