
Alh… Az… Ah… Whatshisname-heimer’s
28 May, 2008“What are you doing here?!?”

Pa saj sem bila še kar previdna: najprej sem potipala stolpič iz kartonskih škatel, malce se je že majal, pa bo. Dvignem eno, hočem pod njo dati novo, ko se zgodi. Potres. Napadejo me moževi škornji, pa nek plastičen pladenj za nevemžekaj, karton poln stiropora za pošiljanje lomljivih stvari … Boli. Ena od škatel je zadela rob mojih očal in plastični nastavek se mi je z užitkom zaril v kožo ali celo kost na nosu, kolnem. Po nemško tokrat. Boli. Verdammt. Pobegnem. Read the rest of this entry ?

In case you haven’t noticed: this is a blog of a tough lady moose. Meaning, I don’t go complaining as long as I can rationalize away any reasons for moaning and obsessively seeing the empty part of the glass. Also, it is not often that I have to put any conscious effort into it - optimism comes naturally with me.
Recently, I’ve been struggling hard to keep my sunny disposition remain uninfluenced by loads of really shitty stuff. What stuff? This:

In her interesting article on all things female and sartorial, Lisa Armstrong in today’s Times Online quotes an interesting point made by Robin Dunbar, a professor of evolutionary anthropology at Oxford:
“In the evolutionary process, animals and humans are constantly evaluating the status of potential mates. One very potent display of status is conspicuous consumption. Beauty is now a purchasable commodity. A woman who is apparently conforming to a demeaning Barbie-doll figure or having all signs of character erased from her face may actually be flaunting her earning power and her ability to pay for fake breasts and Botox. [...] People who think looks don’t matter are, I’m afraid, kidding themselves. [...]“

Ste že kdaj pomislili, da zgodbe o tem, kako nevarno je bilo otroštvo v 70-ih, pripovedujejo in berejo le tisti, ki so ta divja leta tudi preživeli? Mrtvi bi dramatično strukturo pripovedovanja o lepi preteklosti seveda le motili.

My dearest has a funny habit: infect him with a slightest cold and he’ll have breathing difficulties in the night - who doesn’t. But his are … erm: very noisy and discernable difficulties.

Poanta vsega pride že kar na začetku in je krasen dialog (preveden po spominu) iz nekega nemškega filma:
Šef oblikovalske agencije: ” Ma lubica, kej ti s tako iskrenim tonom? Se še nis naučila tekstat?
Mlada samohranilka: “Ne.”

Click, click, click - it’s a lovely sound actually, how could I have forgotten it.
I pause, putting the needles aside: Wait a minute, forgotten?!? You mean: how could you have though this was boring?!?