The Corner House

Bonnie thinks my miserable state is caused by envying Carla Bruni.
I don't think so.
I pointed out that, here-we-go-again, from my observational position on shelf, I see yet another good friend getting married.
"How do you expect to get married when the only man you've showed an interest in for years is the President of blinkin' France?'
Suppose she has a point.
I think I'm fed-up because I'm not writing. I feel very lazy and guilty and wasting whatever sorta talent I do have.
Shouldn't worry too much. A 2,000 word short story due in soon.

I wanna be rich and thin and married to a French President.
Instead of poor and fat and married to no-one.
You Tube very rude about her but I thought she looked fabulous on meeting The Windsors. Princes Philip and Charles had their eyes out on stalks and were utterly charmed by her. She was acting big time but she was doing it well.
Plus - not that I actually fancy him 'cos I think Ray Davies is much preferable but, if I was young and had me hormones back, I wouldn't mind a one-night stand with Mick Jagger. I think he'd be sort of competent.

I dunno wot's up with me of late. A faint malaise. Maybe 'cos it's holidays and I'm not working as much as I should. Not 2 creative at all.
Quiet on Tarot line.
Lilly. Oh, dear a bit funny if it wasn't so worrying.
There be some (Bonnie) as thinks wot Lilly is deranged.
'A past life as an elf?'
'Vampires DO NOT exist.'
Anyway, chatting on Messenger to Lil about my latest fixation - Carla and Sarkosy.
'Who?'
'Lil, don't you ever read the papers?' (Admittedly, I don't bother too much with the actual news part of them.)
'Papers? No, why would I read the papers? My world of spirit is so much more interesting that anything I could ever read in the papers. Why, only yesterday I was talking to AYNSTEIN
Oh, dear, if she's in such close communication with him you think she'd at least get his name right.
Bonnie very concerned.

Bonnie's wedding well and truly organized. Aug 1st is the Big Day.
K, Lamorna and me all bridesmaids. Nice, cocktail type dresses in grown-up pink.
Mine is Size 18!
Size 18!
Once I was a size 12. Once I had a nice figure.
Now I look like some blowsy old pub landlady. I possibly could post some photos on here but do I want to?
Size 18! Resembling Carla Bruni in no way, shape or form.
I just know the lifestyle Madame Sarkozy has. I was an au-pair once. She lives in some fabulous apartment in Paris and it's all elegance and champagne.
"But does she ever enjoy a good old fry-up?" Ian asks, trying to console me.
Worserent, I suspect she does. That skinnyness looks genetic to me, not self-induced.
As soon as I move, to my own pad near uni, no more eating chips at the refectory, diet starts.
If only I could get me hands on me pension to pay for a face-life.

....but does anyone else out there think the French President is absolutely gorgeous and that Ms Carla Bruni is one very lucky woman?

Haven't been blogging.
Dunno. Reappraising life a bit.
Show went well, I thought.
Am I too old to become a success? Is question what is bugging me now.
?!

A Blogger in Bermuda Created on 6 August at 20:39. 2005? 6? Strange what you find when your faffing about on the Internet in the middle of the night. Anyway, I think I made more effort with my writing back then but give us a break, the effort now goes into my stories etc.

A blogger in Bermuda. Sounds vaguely pornographic doesn't it, but no, blogging, I believe is the new black. Unlike dogging, so over - please don't be mistaken or misled, the dogging riff was only one of many feeble jokes in my now defunct stand-up comedy career, the zenith of which was winning a bottle of cannabis-flavoured lager in the Purple Turtle Comedy Club in Islington. Alas, only in the raffle, no one was that impressed by my jokes.
Oh well, onwards and upwards.
I like to tell people that I've worked in publishing for the past eleven years. After all single women are supposed to have careers, aren't they? Although how to pass proof-reading on the night shift at a print firm off as a career, I don't really know.
Thought I was there for the duration. Wondering what sort of gold watch, I'd get. Yeah, I was bored alright but who else would employ a short-sighted proof-reader on the wrong side of 50?
A temp agency in Bermuda, that's who. Suddenly 52 is the new 25! (My typing speed?) My immigration process is currently underway and although I haven't as yet handed in my notice, life in the Western Atlantic suddenly seems very real. Excited or what?
Mixed reactions from the proof-reading department. Ranging from "you go, girl", to the shock, horror, dismay and disbelief of my friend, Rachel. We got things in common, me and Rachel. 11 years in printing for a start, same age, same circumstances, house-owners, cat-owners, both of us dumped by men so far back in the sands of time, mists of antiquity or whenever, we can't quite remember how we got so bitter and twisted only that we did. Our mantra goes all men are bastards; Miss Havisham is alive and well and living in Thamesmead and Hackney Marshes.
Rachel will miss me. For now she just says, angrily during our midnight lunch break, "Women your age don't just pack up and go to Bermude".
"Why not"?
*It's ridiculous, It's the kind of thing you do in your twenties".
"Come with me, your a fast typist."
"Don't be stupid; I've got a mortgage"!
"Me too. Rent it out, it'll pay for itself".
Rachel snorts and concentrates on her microwaved chicken tikka. Conversation closed.
So that's it really. My life to date. Feedback, opinions, all welcome. Feel free. Appalled, like Rachel? Or do you agree with the Handsome Henry from Systems, "Bermuda, gosh! How adventurous!"
And in case your worried about the cat, it's OK, I think my sister's going to have him. Only I haven't told her yet.......

.. and I can't remember how to post things from YouTube. Help?

Ride a White Swan by Marc Bolan and T-Rex

Ride it on out like a bird in the sky ways
Ride it on out like you were a bird
Fly it all out like an eagle in a sunbeam
Ride it on out like you were a bird

Wear a tall hat like a druid in the old days
Wear a tall hat and a tatooed gown
Ride a white swan like the people of the Beltane
Wear your hair long, babe you can't go wrong

Catch a bright star and a place it on your fore-head
Say a few spells and baby, there you go
Take a black cat and sit it on your shoulder
And in the morning you'll know all you know, oh

Wear a tall hat like a druid in the old days
Wear a tall hat and a tatooed gown
Ride a white swan like the people of the Beltane
Wear your hair long, babe you can't go wrong

Da-da-da-di-di-da, da-da-da-di-di-da ....

I've been quite a productive lady today. Churning out the creative stuff.
Despite hangover.
Hangover?
Hangover!
Bloody wine. The 'jobsworth' female security guard wasn't too pleased at about 4.30 this morning to find an intoxicated Blue Eyes and myself and a Computer Room full of empty wine bottles.
"Alcohol's not allowed in here!"
I think she might have expected it from the kids but not from two old fogies mature students.
To take her mind off her outrage I promised I'd do her a Tarot reading next week.

Blue Eyes wine has made me nostalgic.
"Why can't we have before again?" I think that's a misquote from Road by Jim Cartwright.
It is 'if I knew then what I know now' isn't it?
I was thinner than and prettier but I never spoke. I think I was terrified of everything.
Sometimes I'd just like one day back.
Probably my first date with Casey in 1974. Hippy phase, long green cheesecloth skirt, permed hair(?!) I was on the late shift at the library and he had arranged to meet me outside at 8 pm. And all day I was in a daze. Would he turn up? He was so gorgeous. How could someone so gorgeous want to take me out? Five to eight and I'm doing myself up like anything, lippy, mascara, the works, I wasn't a very natural hippy chick. Stepped outside the library and thought to myself, no, don't even look round, don't even think he will have turned up, don't be so ridiculous, he was drunk when he asked, he is out of your league, go straight home, early night, don't be ridiculous....
Someone grabs my arm.
A thin, slight Irishman. Black hair, blue eyes. Think of a young Ian McKellan but straight. Or Ronald Allen who played David Hunter in Crossroads. Was he gay as well? I digress.
"You're in a terrible hurry" Casey says.
"Oh!" I say, hand to mouth. I was a bloody brilliant actress back then and didn't even know it. I tell you even Helen Mirren could not have done such a great look of surprise as I did then. "Oh!" I said, looking at this man who I hadn't stopped thinking about since I first met him the night before -
"Oh! It's you. I forgot!"

Should be in bed.
I've vaguely been working on my play all day. The play that's vaguely about Marc Bolan. Among other things. Since starting it I have become such a fan of Marc Bolan. I wasn't at the time. I was more folk music at the time.
Cross because I accidentally deleted a quote and now I can't find it again.
Blue Eyes brought me some wine over, in a cup.
Bless him.

Haven't posted much 'cos nothing been happening!
Having said that, I did enjoy the psychic.
Got lost on the way. Blue Eyes, bless him, is a bit of a liability. Nothing is ever straightforward with him. I got in late last night (slaving over hot compuer) to find.... What other man is putting baked potatoes into the oven at 2.30 am?
Is one example.
Now, psychic who was a pretty lady and extremely young looking for 50, the bitch, just tole me a few things I already knew but then - turns out in May she is starting up a Development Circle. I will so be there. She said that was why I came to her for a reading not because I needed a reading.
Which I don't, my phone bill was.... never mind. I don't know 'cos I only had that one reading on New Year's Eve. I think.
Bonnie now getting married in Malta.
I mean, who knows? Will have to wait and see on that one.