Into the snow

There are times in life when I need to hide. Not in the literal-Under the bed, no I am not coming out for dinner sense. But in a more-Wake up/Go to work/Eat/Sleep/Crap/Cry/Repeat sort of way. Now I am not making any promises, but I think I am cracking the pattern. I have that rumbling in my head that either means I've taken too many Advil this week, or that my need for expression and joy is back.

I have always had these periods of lull in my life. Grade 11, my 23rd year, my 27th year...the last 6 months...I figure if Julia Roberts can drop out of the lime light and remake her career every few years, then why the hell can't I?


I think that in this next chapter I am going to re-evaluate my desire to be a ninja . It has become increasingly difficult to break into this new line of work, as ninja are netoriously invisible
and awesome.

There is a fair amount of guilt I feel in wasting time with self evaluation and dreams. The vast majority of folk on this planet spend their entire lives just trying keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. I am beginning to feel a moral, nay social obligation to use my pondering for the betterment of my fellow man.


There is a great quote in "High Fidelity" by Nick Hornby. Well actually it is a quote of a quote..."He's got time on his hands, and himself on his mind." And that is exactly where I have been these last few months, for better or worse.

Ahhh...so hopeful

Maybe it's cause I'm listening to old MJ tunes (ie. "Ben"), that I am feeling optimistic...and perhaps a little gullible. But supposedly if I get a few people (they never really specify the #) to go to this link, I win a free Ipod! And since my last Blog was so synical...perhaps this will reinstitute my faith in humanity...or the corporation.
So check it out!

http://www.freeiPods.com/?r=20541039

Being a Grown Up Sucks!

I work with kids.
Kids complain.
A LOT.
But these are the sort of things they complain about.

" I'm tiiiiiiired...."

When asked why they are so insanely tired.
"Ugh. BeCAUSE....last night I stayed up til 11:30 watching The Princess Diaries, and I had my friend Savannah over and she wanted to build a fort, and then my brother was barfing cause he ate way too much pizza....and...and.."
or better still....
"My life is so terrible!"
Why is your life SO terrible?
"Well cause I really wanted to go to the Sunshine Coast, to our cabin, and now I have to go to Art Camp, and my sister has to go to Riding Camp, and my Grandma isn't coming to visit until the end of July, and I have to wait until mt sister finishes the new Harry Potter, and I know she's going to wreck it for me."

OH YEAH?! Well...I'm worried my friend is going to die from breast cancer, that my brother's marriage is falling apart, that most of my friends' parents are dying, that I am going to jail for not paying my student loan, that I can't cover rent, that I am going to live my life as a nothing, and raise a bunch of kids that will hate me, and end up dead when they are 14 from huffing lysol!
And at least you HAVE A GRANDMA!!
Trade ya.

Life is.

Life is when you argue over the phone bill.
Or when there's not enough milk for your morning coffee.
Life is when your friend's babies are born, or even when they're not.
I know life, when a loved one passes, or when I hear one sleeping late on my couch.
Life is in the quite of the everyday, and in the mania of buying a new house.
Life is having to scrub behind the toilet because the inspestor is coming.
Life not wanting to make dinner tonight, and having a glass of wine instead.
Life is spraining your ankle. Life is being late. Life is feeling cosy every so often.
Life is worrying about your friends. And being proud of them at the same time.
Life whispers a fair amount, and then yells when you're sleepy.
Life is. Life is.

The Mad Life of Ms. Maizun

The Mad Life of Ms. Maizun

Girls on Tour 2005!

Girls on Tour 2005!

Yummy puppies!!

Lighthouse on Rainy Day

Under the influence of sobriety...

Something strange happens to a girl when the fog socks in and the wind whistles down the chimney flu. Her mind slips to thoughts of "Sleepy Hollow" type mysteries, and rather unseasonable feelings of hot chocolate and wooly slippers.

The upcoming advent of my 31st has, as is oft the case with birthdays, filled me with much melancholy and reflection. Questions of destiny, adventure, purpose and ambition begin to plague most waking moments. I start to feel the weight of my three decades, and the whisper-light quality of the future. How quickly it all moves. So quickly in fact, one feels as though time is not moving at all. That life will go on and on...that love and friends and families will continue at infinitum...

The rain is pounding today. Grey and tumultuous. My coffee is luke-warm, but my toes are toasty.
Perhaps a hot-tottie to see me through.

Did you receive the package I sent?
love and hugs,
Miss.C

Spring Has Sprung...

Dear Petals,
Ah, with the glorious cherry blossoms and those daffy-dils comes the obligatory runny nose/coughing/aching/eyes of a basset hound cold. I suspect my daily encounters with the younger set have heightened my immune system to such a level, that only the most nefarious of germs make their way in. For what a wretched state I am in these days! All together now.....AWWWW! That's right, I am indeed the only one on this big blue marble who has ever suffered the way I am suffering right now. Kyoto Accord my ass! Let's get the G8 onto some more serious dilemmas! How is a girl supposed to keep up her fabulous ways when her eyes are puffed shut and her nose feels as though it's about to fall off?
Wait a moment...I don't have a cold! I think I am recovering from plastic surgery!?

Speaking of fabulous women, my dear friend Juan is coming out for a viz in August. I can't wait for you all to me him. DE-LISH! I am preparing my liver for his sojourn on my couch as we speak. Mothers lock up your sons... he's cute AND British! Lord help us.

My infinite apologies to all who have felt abandoned by yours truly, what with the plague and a chronic failing with my lappy, keeping up the correspondence has been a real trial. Kiss. Kiss.

Ol' Mondie is doing well. She has taken up Mountain Biking of all things. Bless the old girl. She raced out the door this morning on some fandangled contraption she called a Stinky, and said she'd be back from Ned's Atomic Dustbin at around 4pm. She is really losing it in her old age. Sweet pet.

I hope that the two-lips are nice on your end.
love love
Miss.C

PS. I broke a martini glass last night. It was full at the time. Could you bring over another?
M'wah!

A Chiquita Banana

I am back darling!
Back from the wilds of the Mayan Riviera. What a trip we had. My word. Those mexican lads are so wonderful, I wanted to squish them all into my Louis V's. The sun was glorious! With a healthy dose of SPF30 my shade loving complexion managed to survive the trip unscathed;moreover, I left with what one might even call an amber hue! For the first time in my life I felt like a proverbial SUN GODDESS!! And, no my perspective was not skewed by the unlimited Tequila in the hotel room.
Rosamond is non the worse for wear either. It took the old girl a day to wrap her head around all the Espanol, but I bought her a lime-green air-mattress and she spent the rest of the trip floating around to the 3 swim up bars. Pina Colada, I have been told, is a loose translation for "Holy Nectar of the Sun Gods". Oh, those crazy Mexicans.
I will post a pic or two when I figure out this damnable scanner Rosamond brought home. I have tried to tell her that Chevy flatbeds are not the same as retail, but will she listen?
I even managed to coerce Rosamond into an afternoon of snorkling if you can believe it?! What a riot! And those those tube thingies are SO handy, like a really big straw attached to your head. Only in the tropics.
Needless to say, we had an excellent time. In fact it was all I could do to get Rosamond on the plane home. There were tears, there was a lot of denial, and then there was this small tube of something the bell boy called "Mexican Sugar". It certainly must be a concentrate of sugar because Rosamond was very happy and a little sweaty on the flight home. So I mixed her an in flight cocktail of Zanex and Stoli and she slept all the way home.
Sorry I didn't bring you any souvenirs. We were 30kgs over with the rum already, so I had to ditch the vanilla in Cancun. Hope your not too miffed.
Hasta Luego,
Miss.Creant

Hives are not just for bees...

Honey,
So there I was cozying up to my darling Ana Karenina, and as my eyes drifted down towards her sultry pages I noted a rapidly spreading redness across my chest. Perhaps lust, longing, or even a touch of lasciviousness? No my petal, a common, everyday, purely pedantic allergy. To what? My mind raced over the fountains of gin, shiraz and single malt...perhaps...no...no..it couldn't be...an allergy to alcohol!? Oh, fie! Fie you wretched gods! Five wee slumbers until all-inclusive Mexican glory, only to be thwarted by my own penchant for 151 proof gin? No! I will not allow it. I will NOT be denied the unparalleled divinity of swim-up bars.
I tore back the covers and threw up the sash, "I will go on!" I cried into the darkness. "I will not be put down by The Man. Be he Captain Morgan or Johnny Walker!" And in the immortal words of Her Highness Gloria Gaynor I concluded with the apt flourish..."I WILL SURVIVE!"

Then my dear Rosamond came into the room and asked ever so sweetly if I liked the smell of the new laundry detergent she had used?

Ah, the gods are a kind and just motley crew. Gin- IN, Sunlight Meadow Fresh- OUT.
Nothing will keep my gorgeousness away from those swim-up bars.

Write when you get work,
Divine Miss.Creant

A Mirror Never Lies...well, rarely ever.

I had that dream again. The one where I have seven long blond hairs growing out of my face. Three or four inches long and on my cheeks, close to my nose. When I pull them it hurts quite a bit. I ask Rosamond "When on earth did I grow these!?"
She simply replies that I have always had them, and that she has gotten used to my shaggy self.
All those hours in front of the mirror and I never noticed?! I realise that I have no awareness of self image and awake suddenly. What a horrid dream. Truly horrid.

We are, Rosamond and I, getting quite giddy about the upcoming trip to The Mayan Riviera. Rosamond has never been any place warm, and I am thoroughly enchanted with these mystical "swim-up bars" I have heard so much about. What a novel concept, aperitifs and inflatable turtles. Hilarious!

I suppose the challenge now is merely to pass the next two weeks without murdering any of the little beasts that infest my daily life. I am finding it increasingly difficult, however, to be my fabulous self when I am continually sneezed upon. Loathsome creatures. Why must people breed? And why must they send their dripping progeny to me for guidence?

It is true that my leadership and tutelage is helping to shape the world of tomorrow. And it is true that I delight in having my voice echo through the generations, but I am starting to wonder if their isn't an easier way than actually having be near the children to do so?

Keep me abreast of any news,
Yours in all that is gorgeous,
Miss. Creant