wendy house

Apparantly my scary boobs were just tooooo much for the youngster.  They seem to have totally undermined his ability to dial or text my phone numbers when I’m likely to answer,  reply-send an email to me then prompted him to re-post his online dating profile and actively use it. 

Who would have guessed?  According to Jennifer throwing my panties at him would have produced better results than pointing the booby-dudes at him.

Never under-estimate the power of the booby-dudes,  insulated or not,  they can have far-reaching effects. 

Affectionately known by the brave, and Amadeus, as

Bill and Ben

Wendy:  “am I scary?”

Amadeus:  “If, by scary, you mean dangerous, flirty, unpredictable, quirky, exciting, original, maddening, creative and fun, then yes, you are terrifying… <unpublishable>”

Wendy:  “Grrrrrrr…”  <wearing an insulated bra while clawing the air like a cat-on-a-scratching post>

Pickles:  <looking directly at Wendy’s boobs>  “I’m not a big boob man,  those are quite big“

Wendy:  “they’re ‘B’ the rest is mainly bra-padding to keep them warm”

Pickles:  <looks relieved> 

A date called Pickles?  A quick glance in his fridge revealed a door almost exclusively filled with A LOT of bottled ketchup-style sauces,  a home made curry and a big US style pickle jar,  full gherkins. 

After minimum instruction he’s mastered making a decent cup of PG tips using a pyramid bag, mug,  water, microwave and milk.  We had to make an excursion to a shop for the milk.  UK people should note that several USians who have risked inviting me into their homes didn’t have

• electric kettles

• stove-top kettles (they use coffee machines)

• milk in thier fridge (because they use cream in their coffee)

Since arriving in the US I’ve learned to carry emergency teabags and improvise on the kettle.  I haven’t found a milk solution other than going to the shop.

W 

last night, in my sleep I answered my cell-phone.

Sleep-phone-answering happens in ŦĦ£ ώëñð¥ Ħõů$€.

When no-one spoke directly to me I forced myself to wake-up by repeatedly saying “Hello,  who’s there?” 

I heard voices in the background,  assumed a miss-dial,  hung-up, opened my eyes to check the time 03:45 (11.45 GMT)  and promptly drifted back into sleepy land thinking ‘that will be the current Hottie accidentally miss-dialing my number’

In the normal morning (after 8am) my cell-phone had no record of an incoming phonecall …

Either

• my cell-phone lies
• the number was international (expensive!) not stored standardly in my incoming calls list as  ‘withheld #’
• I had a dream that was 100% realistic

Either way,  I’m stumped by the technology or I am having dreams that mimic waking-me-up at an hour that should seriously remain out of consciousness.  NO.  Lucid dreaming requires night callers to whisper sweet things…

W

<Mawkishness warning>

This letter is to tell you how
I am thinking of you here and now.I was just thinking of you then.
Later.  I will consider you again. 

I cannot miss what I’ve never had.
I can mull over an amusing lad,

Build smiles around anticipation,
Delight in shared appreciation.

<Mawkishness over>

No puking please.

Occassional outbursts of soppiness are a side-effect of being Wendy.

Last night Coldplay played at the Seattle Key Arena.

Summary: Lively, fun high quality entertainment

Chris Martin swaggered and pranced around the stage nonchalantly in a manner reminiscent of Pete Murphy or David Bowie.

They played a pleasingly long, well executed, set covering all 3 albums. The light show was dramatic and simple. It didn’t detract from the performance.

Live film of the concert was edited and projected onto a huge back-screen. The camera-work and editing was outstanding. It was creative and conveyed the kind of detail you can’t see, when like me, you’re dancing in the gods.

Yellow was about the 3rd song. Huge yellow balloons were released from the ceiling. I caught photographs of these on my cameraphone (pictures attached). the balloons burst sprinkling ‘glitter’ onto the audience.

Camera’s were heavily evident in the audience. During in my place much of the audience held their cell-phones aloft and swayed their arms.

I danced through the whole concert, extremely enjoyable.

Atmospheric, fuzzy T610 cameraphone photographs

W

“Where’s your labrador puppy? <snigger>” flatmates, 1983

Teasing me about the puppy I subsequently dated for 3 years.

“He’s just a big labrador puppy” Amadeus Director, 1989

I was cast opposite this puppy’s Amadeus as Constanza Mozart.  I started dating him on closing night.  Lived with him for 5 years.  The director commented that ‘the potential chemistry’ influenced the original casting decision.

“You’ve turned him into a labrador puppy” Lad’s-best-friend, 1995

Comment on how meeting me had impacted the lad’s behaviour.  I subsequently lived with the lad for 5 years .

W looking-for-a-labrador-lad

ME:  “I’ve never married,  House has always been my name”

DHS: “oh,  I’m sorry”

ME:  “that’s ok,  I’m not”

What’s good about this lad?  

• alive.
• youngster (35yrs – I’m ageist,  prefer ‘healthy’ lads) 
• can get his hands on fire-engines (big, red, warm and shiney,  YUMMY!)
• paramedic skills (useful for when I fall over). 
• Loves his mum and spontaneously offered to lend her to me.
• is cheeky and potentially subversive.
• when warned about my English ‘yellow wonky’ toothipegs he told me his dog’s yellow teeth hadn’t stopped them bonding.  Incidentally,  he has the shiniest white teeth I’ve ever seen.  This is a difficult achievement in teeth-bleaching US. 
• suggested we go to a Kareoke bar hosted by an MC that is proudly living in the 1980s.
• asks me questions,  listens to what I say and then asks more,  pertinent questions (i.e. not arrogant, not self-obsessed).
• can use a cell-phone and email despite mysterious happenings.
• removed his internet dating profile after we’d mailed and chatted.
• No kitty-allergies.

What’s less good about this lad?: 

• 45mins drive between us (no direct bus service). 
• limited meeting opportunites because of respective work commitments.
• slips into espousing his life philosophy in small monologues (I guess I can catch 20 winks when this happens).

 The less good stuff is all relatively trivial...

W

Him: ‘Do you like to work out?’ 

Eating 2 huge waffles drowning in cream.  Just the thought of sugar for breakfast makes my stomach turn.  Give my curry on toast anyday!

Me: ‘Heck no! Working my body for fitness’ sake,  Yuck!’

eating cheese & ham omelette because curry on toast wasn’t on the menu (neither were Heinz baked beans).  Sigh.

Him: ‘Then how do you stay so slim?’<

Ah,  so for this USian,  Slim = must ‘Work-out’. 

Must avoid provocative prejudicial comments about afluent greedy Americans being obese because the culture encourages ‘gorging’ themselves on unnecessary food.  Food is cheap here.  It’s a stereotype that is difficult to shake-free even when living in the US.  How can I explain this tactfully?
Me: ‘I only eat when I’m hungry ‘

Europe has a ‘growing’ problem of obesity.  As usual,  Europe is ‘behind’ America in this trend,  but catching up quicky.  A side effect of wealth and capitalistic lifestyles?  I’ve been in the US for 6 years. I’m approximately the same size as when I arrived. 

W  suprisingly-slim-by-US-standards

Him: “How can you see where you’re driving with all this condensation?”

ME: “That’s not condensation, that’s good old-fashioned dirt” (I hadn’t recently washed my hair or Loo Sea’s windows)

Him: “It’s condensation, look” (drags finger down Loo Sea’s winscreen)

ME: “Yes, Yes,YES! Add grease marks! draw pictures!”

Him: (Silence as he realises that its dirt not condensation)

Times when I wish I had a witty retort -

Man:  “you better watch out for tailgaiters,  you’re really easy to recognize from the back”

Wendy:  “it has its advantages”

He doesn’t yet know about my painting. Spooky!  I think I missed a good retort opportunity there…  …what should I have said?

Jill thinks Jack is mean and greedy

Jack thinks Jill is mean and greedy

the more Jill feels that Jack is mean

the more greedy Jack feels Jill to be

the more Jill feels Jack is greedy

the more mean Jack feels Jill to be

the more greedy Jack feels Jill to be

the more mean Jill feels Jack to be

the more mean Jill feels Jack to be

because Jill feels Jack is mean

because Jack feels Jill is greedy

because Jill feels Jack is greedy

because Jack feels Jill is mean

Harmon Pub and Brewery there.  It serves a tasty “Extra Special Bitter” (ESB).  Either it doesn’t have a good Head like a UK pint or the server didn’t know how to pour it.  It wasn’t offensively gaseous,  alcohol-starved, or ‘cloudy’ like many US brews.  Result! 

GOAL!!!!!

Yummy 

Worth going back for another straight from the Brewhouse…

Wendy Tacoma-bound.

This week I’m eating Salemville Amish Blue cheese from Wisconsin.  It is moist, flavourful, crumbly and tongue-slitheringly creamy….

 Eyan reports that Microsoft Word losing 2 hours of his intellectual effort and a Gouda supper prefaced this rocky dream:

I was with my mother on the coast somewhere – the coasts were rather open and vast, somewhat influenced by photos I saw on Flickr.com. I climbed down a rocky ravine to get down to the beach (this is more influenced by the upper Algarve) My mother was urging me on. But, true to style, I got stuck and was in grave danger of falling off and breaking a good few bones.

After an evening scoffing meowmix; Matrix leapt out of a seamingly deep coma with this dramtically delivered dream report:

Meow meow meow MEOW meow MEEEEEEOOOOOOOOOW

Eyan’s kitty-stories,  to be taken daily with a large mug of tea for a sense of proportion….  

“Cats are watching tv.Cat tv emits a warm, orange-reddy light and it is viewed as closely as possible. “

“Woke with my ususal splutter.  Cats took this as a cue for an early morning feeding. We tried mutual underblanket comforting for an hour,  but it didn’t work. Couldn’t get back to sleep. They had a five am feeding instead. “

“Was gang-busted by intruders the other night. They persistently banged against my bedroom door until I let them in. They then forced me to share my bed with them. One was small, light-footed and purred quite a lot. The other was rather heavy and leaden-like on  your legs. “

“Any idea where my cats stand on the Wendy bounce scale ? There was serious activity this morning, especially after my “trance” alarm went off.”

“This morning’s bouncing activity involved pushing open the door which was ajar, walking round the bed with heavy footage, climbing along the pillow and sniffing hair, investigating a device on the floor which lit up and emitted sounds equivalent to a small discotheque playing illicit-substance-influenced sounds and general hyperactive mayhem (because we are HUNGRY)”

W

Yeah,  and I’m still skinny! 
Eat lots of cheese, and I’m still skinny!  
Drink some Beer  and I’m stil skinny!
Drive to work,  and I’m STILL skinny!
Never been on a ‘loose wieght’ diet, and I’m steel skinny!
MuuaaaahahHahahahaha…  W

“One secret enemy, a physician named Weulles, secretly poisoned Descartes, under the cover of medicine. The great mathematician was buried in Sweden, but his head was severed from his body. ” (Source)

 

There is even a book that refers to the missing skull as part of a conspiracy that isn’t called “The Descartes Code“…   Lets put the Skull on hold for a moment and follow the body’s journey as detailed on internet pages:

“As a Catholic in a Protestant nation, he was interred in a graveyard mainly used for unbaptized infants in Adolf Fredrikskyrkan. ” (source)

“In 1667, his remains were taken to Paris and buried in the Church of St. Genevieve-du-Mont.” (source)

 

Burial # 3:  Paris, Pantheon

“During the French Revolution, his remains were disinterred for burial in the Pantheon among the great French thinkers.” (source)

 

“The French treasurer general, who supervised the move of the body, kept the bones from Descartes’ right hand as a personal souvenir. About this, the great mathematician Jacobi said, “It is often more convenient to possess the ashes of great men than to possess the men themselves during their lifetime.”  (source)

 

Burial # 4:  Paris, St. Germain-des-Pres

“His tomb is now in the church of St. Germain-des-Pres.” (source)

Museum of Natural History in France.”  (source)

“they lie in separate locations: his body in a crypt and his skull on display in a tawdry museum.”   (Source)

 

There is a macabre irony in the possibility that since death his head has never been united with his body. 

This entry was inspired by a marvellously entertaining (fictional) discussion in the excellent novel I’m reading;  Malcom Bradbury’s ‘The Hermitage“. 

W

Tea is a meal. 

Chicken Tika Masala is a very ‘British’ meal. 

I’m not one to lightly cast-off cultural stereotypes so finding this little beauty in the Fridge was cause for 6.5 bounces on the Wendy-scale (variation on the richter scale).

Mildly spicy?  Understatement.  Disappointingly MILD.  When are they going to release microwave meals into the US that are Manzil’s Digbeth Curry House good?   I suspect this type of meal,  like my nail clippers, is currentlly considered too dangerous to come through customs. 

This means I have to cook,  yes COOK to get my regular supply of hot sauce.  Sigh.

W

Apparantly this is a religiously sanctioned site. 

Can you guess why I giggled?  Can you?  NAUGHTY you!

As if that wasn’t side-rupturing-snigger-good the site also claims that  their members are endowed.  Oh SHUSH,  GETAWAY,  pick me up off the carpet and put ear-mufflers on the kitties*….

W school-yard-humour-insensitivity-offense

SpottyDog,  a cheeky subversive cute gal phoned (6pm UK, 10am US) to remind me that

1. UK homosexuals can now marry.   
2. Mexico is sinking faster than Venice.  We need to vacation there or Brighton UK, SOON. 
3. porridge, curry & blue cheese. Spotty dog is white wine & curry. 
4. 1995 was an exceptional year (more a book chapter than blog entry). 
5. SpottyDog gives first rate hugs

Bloomin’ fabulous fone-call

Set in a future,  Plato, and orator tells stories of the different ages of the worlds’ existence.  Ackroyd paints a picture of some of the ‘current’ world understandings.  An ingenious possible world.  We follow the character of Plato as he uses stories and rhetoric to encourage the inhabitants to question their own, current, understandings.  To question their ‘truths’.  We see the societal implications of his questioning the current dominant world view within this fictional future. 

A quick,  deeply entertaining read for people with a passing knowledge of greek mythology,  philosophy,  E A Poe, Charles Darwin, Charles Dickens, Sigmund Freud and London’s geography/districts.  Without this knowledge the book is still brief and good with a little more proactive reflection on the readers part and lacking some of the referential humour and colourful decoration that this prior knowledge affords.

Excellent plot.  Ackroyd creatively re-interprets history using deliberate misunderstandings based on inferences from incomplete information.  For example,  the only copy of ‘The origin of the species’ has the authors name partially destroyed,  as Charles D….   They assume the author is Charles Dickens and read the book as if it is a Novel with colourful characters.  “May I recommend ‘the origin of the species’ to you then, as a comic masterpiece“p10.   

 

For the Plato character there is clearly sign posted character development.

Despite my strong affection for Ackroyd’s previous works that I have read - Hawksmoor, Chatterton, and Dan leno and the Limehouse Golem the Plato papers reads as a self-consciously clever novel.  That is A LOT more than most writers produce but not sufficient for me to recommend it as a generally good,  entertaining, read.  

 

To fully enjoy the book you need some cursory knowledge of  British authors and London’s geography.   The characters other than Plato appear merely instumental in telling the main plot; no character development.  Some points are laboured,  for example the glossary of ancient terms that Plato is writting serves its purposes of illustrating misunderstandings and the perspective of this future world well before Ackroyd finishes it. 

Fifth report in my ongoing cheese investigations. 

Eating phase (Danish Blue cheese supper):

6/6 nights produced dreams.  Unfortunately dream content was forgotten promptly.  Dream impressions were mostly reminiscent of those I have during a ‘fever’:  intense, bizarre, rejuvenating with some pleasingly adult content.

Decontamination phase (no Danish Blue supper):

Cancelled.

I’m planning to continue investigating Danish Blue across the weekend to check if sleeping-in will improve my memory for the content. 

Shifting directly to another Blue cheese when my current Danish Blue supply runs out.

Conclusion?

Danish Blue consistently produced dreams.

Dreams were intense, bizarre and blue.  ..mmmMMmmm….

Dreams rarely persisted to morning memories.

 

Inhabitants of the fridge (Adonis, BSBM and WildGirl) know HOW I live.  They checkout my nightly visits for basic necessities of either beer, teabags, kitty food/litter, cheese or sanitary towels. 

Tonight was a beer night.

Adonis:  <twists round from his check-out to review my purchase on the next check-out> “can you share one of those with me? <flashes dental masterpiece over his shoulder while scanning his customers goods>

Wendy: Tough night?

 Adonis:  its going that way <simultaneously answers the phone, scans an item, twists round, smiling and fanning his transparant eyelashes at me.  The boy is a multi-talented mutli-tasker>

Last late night beer purchase from Adonis:

Adonis:  Dinner? <with downturned head raises blonde eyebrows and flaunts his pearly whites>

Wendy: late lunch <revealing my twisty yellows>

You need to wear sunglasses for a full appreciation of Adonis, marble-white skin, matching tresses, transluscent lashes and flourescent smile.

Surreal?

• Investigating eating Danish Blue cheese, while
• Reading about the WhitePrince’s Kitty’s orange-reddy TV watching habits, and
• Listening to his 2005 club mix, after having 
• Removed Kitty fur from keyboard spacebar

Laptop as food-tray, music system, communications device and kitty-fur magnets  …so versataile…

If life is surreal what’s the (space)bar for normality?

“littered with misprints, ‘hoopes’ for ‘hookes’, ’she’ for ‘he’, three whole lines simply repeated in Exodus, and alarmingly ‘Judas’ for ‘Jesus’ in one of the Gospels. None of these was quite so catastrophic as a misprint that would appear in a 1631 edition, the so-called Wicked Bible, which failed to put the word ‘not’ in Exodus 20:14, giving the reading ‘Thou shalt commit Adultery’” p226

 

• avoid the language of the day 
• focus on literal translation  
• leave ambiguity where it already exists.    

• Jacobean England
• England/Scotland relationship
• the evolution of Christianity (the reformation)
• English influences on the US pilgrim settlers
• Language
• Black Adder II

W

“An American critic wrote that she would rather be forced to read the New York telephone directory three times than watch the film A Zed and Two Noughts, a third of which was a homage to Vermeer. Conceivably, if you are a list-enthusiast like me, the New York telephone directory might be fascinating, demographically, geographically, historically, typographically, cartographically; but I am sure no compliment was intended.” 

This may have been taken balancing a camera on a steering wheel driving across the impressive 4.1 mile Astoria-Megler bridge.

More impressive photographs and details about:  Astoria-Megler Bridge

…whisper…   …whisper…  …whisper…

…CLICK… …CLICK… …CLICK…

Warning:  stilettos are 7 times too NOISY for sparsely populated art galleries with hard wood floors like Frye’s art museum.  I can confirm that American art lovers can produce ‘disapproving looks’ of Paddington bear proportions.