Monday, 31 December 2012

New do

Dyed my hair. Copper blond on top and dark ruby red on the bottom. Red sliding between. Braided small crimson and orange feathers into it. Not in American Natives way, more in a Tobi-on-period way. Have also managed to inhale peroxide and am now snotting blood. But I do look pretty :D

Friday, 28 December 2012

Ha, and it just occurred to me. Sonmi is actually named Sonmi 451.


The notorious number of temperature, at which is the autoignition point of book paper, eh, Bradbury?

Cloud Atlas (the movie)

Watched it.
Liked it.
Loved it.

I understood this story, although I at first didn't think I would. Music is not like fiction. It's absolute. I can understand why someone would want to become one. Also, the boys, the ill-fated couple, are very very lovely. In a fucked up sad way.

 This story was kind of interesting, although I didn't get most of it. Will have to read about it. The Goddess Sonmi part and the Ol'Georgie bits made the most and the least sense.

 This one was fabulous. I'm gonna treat Hugo Weaving to a drink when I meet him. He's marvellous. The whole story is so cute from start to finish.Old guy, Jim, was also lovely. His 'Soylent Green is made of people!!' like is still making me laugh.

There is also one with normal-looking Halle Berry as a research journalist. It's supposed to bind others together, but I am yet to figure out how. It took me four days to see this film. Will probably take me longer to read. A lot.

This story was the most beautiful. Although I didn't get it at all. The girl who plays Sonmi was beyond perfect. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so sad and beautiful in an American movie before. The boy was very beautiful, too, (people don't really sleep like that, though, you know? I certainly don't look that lovely sleeping. And even the General, even if he does, and he looks very cute, can't stand being watched and always wakes up angry.) though for the most part I thought he was just manipulating her into martyrdom. Necessary, but still martyrdom. Which I am not a fan of. I don't think they stressed enough how all this impacted the far future. Soylent Green all over again. Ew.

Off to read it now.
I wonder... If all those years ago, when I was heading towards the desert and this book was in my hands for more than a minute (I started reading it, but the intro was too off kilter for me at the time. That'll teach me.) my life would have been different now? All life's matter of perception, right? Well, and karma. But would I have experienced all those moments differently, having ingested this book? I wonder.

Sometimes I feel like my life is just a bad nightmare of someone, dreaming about  along forgotten, failed, miserable past life.

But then I wake up. And put it in a novel.

Wednesday, 26 December 2012

Clay thingies I made this season, to give off as prezzies :D

This is a house number tile, about 30x40cm, made of clay and glass. It is partially glazed and colored. And there's udders.

The clay and glass ornaments for christmas trees or window branches for my in-laws.

Dude with doggie. Kind of like the General with Barky :D These are cookie prints that a friend brought to the clay shop.

We didn't think this glazing will work, but as it turned out, if flawed, it actually looks really cool blue.

This is a very long kind of art piece, as tall as me, made of clay and rope.

I kept one of the clay-glass ginger cookies, as it was perteh.

Candle lamp for sis and Maggie and of course it got decapitated fifteen seconds before I had the chance to hand it to them. Of course it did.

Leaf-shaped key plate for my older brother. Hope he doesn't read the blog :P Well, he says he doesn't.

"Fucked up Drej" tile, done with a foam print, clay colors and half glazing. This was for Drej, as she loved it when she saw it.

Hearts. Also done with a mold print, colors and the funky blue glaze.

The set of fruit dishes/baskets that my mum and dad asked for. They are slightly more ornamented on the outside.

The angry birds triptih. The tiles, also done with the foam print, colored and then wiped and glazed. These ones were for me :D

Tuesday, 25 December 2012

Do I do I do I do I watch the Cloud Atlas? ... Do I do I do I do I?

I hate movies in which people die. I hate movies in which people are executed. I hate movies in which people are killed. I hate movies in which people grow old. I hate movies in which time passes. I hate movies that aren't particularly good. I hate movies that make me feel like my whole life is just a memory of some future version of myself...

But the make-up, costumes, scenery and narrative are so mesmerising, I don't know what the fuck to do. So far I've watched Tom Hanks's intro and outro.

Rats :/

Reading in between parties :)

.... preferably while recovering from having eaten way too fucking much. (I have no self-discipline when to comes to home cooking.) 
One is Rude Britannia. That's by Tim Fountain. I picked it up after Stephen Fry recommended it on twitter. I like this one very much. Although it's so pervy, I somehow cannot read it with decent people (like my in-laws) in the room. It's just ... rude :))) Super funny and incredibly honest. (Unlike Chelsea Chandler books, which are supposed to be so, but really come up wanting. Rude B. is about (and by) an old queen, actor and author, doing a research on the 'cottaging' culture where he himself spawned from as a person. He looks back on all the wonderful and at the same time ridiculous happenstances that made him into an avid fan of casual sex (much more than a fan of love, he notes) - but things have changed and he finds the scene quite alien to what he was so fond of originally.You know Times Are A'Changin' when not even glory holes are what they used to be.

The second is one of the 'Scandi Crime' scene bestsellers called The Snowman. It's by a Jo Nesbo. A friend recommended it to me, from my lack of good crime books to chose from lately. (Lisbeth really raises the bar.) You get to page three and you're already bombarded by some of the most gruesome and fundamental negative emotions: a cheating woman, leaving a kid in the car while she cheats in winter; with a man who's coldly abandoning her; being watched by a creepy snowman, and a kid saying 'we're all going to die'. Not sure how much I enjoy this, as I spook very easily and will probably get even more frightened while I read on, but there you have it. I tend to go into dark places that frighten me and deal with it later. 

I had a nightmare the other day about tea. Usually I dream nice, random things with General in it, seasoned partially by the shows or movies I've been watching. Yesterday I dreamt about a very lovely boy that we sometimes meet walking his dog and in the dream he was inviting me in. It felt very sensual, very flattering and very arousing, and very tempting ... until he offered me tea. At that point I realized this is not a nice dream at all, but a clear testament to my 'mother of all turn-offs', - a man drinking tea. Offering me tea in a very neat cup. Some special kind of tea, something prepared carefully. That just fucking kills the relationship for ewah, instantly. I know why it occured: because the day before Nea and I both had too many coffees beforehand and decided to try tea in a cool pub. But neither of us knew how to deal with it and the case remained - it's still a funny coloured, gruseome tasting overpriced piss water. With sugar in it.

The third booksie is Lonely Planet's Mongolia travel guide, as I am feeling a terribly impressive urge to walk across the Mongolia-Manchuria Grasslands. General has already hid my shoes, but I am thinking this could very well be done between two people (choosing a good month to do it, so it's not too arid or too cold), and a bike trailer. 

Sunday, 23 December 2012














Friday, 21 December 2012

I have a severe tummy ache. I ate healthy food and this is my punishment :/ Fried noodles with tofu and a light salad. Whoever's heard of such terrible food?? Don't know what came over me. Ou. Ou.

The days are slow, visiting granny in the hospital and doing this stuff and that. Everyone is making plans for after the New Years (Oh, yeah, world didn't end.) and I am thrown by General's off work timetable. Watching Downton Abbey. Making cute clay thing :))

Monday, 17 December 2012

Uf, our granny just came out of the OR. It's no small thing for a woman of 92 to come out of the OR and an hour later already receiving visitors and you can hear her down the hall as we're phoning in the nurses if we can come. I remember I was out for three hours, not 30 minutes after my show, and mine wasn't even an invasive procedure. She had a broken hip that needed screwing. She fell last night, trying to help another lady who fell from her wheelchair. Those damn lapdancing parties at the retirement home! always someone ends up screwed!

But things are okay now. Scary bit is over. We are all such pussies. Nobody dared call. I actually had an inside source, my Kimi, sending me texts to keep me posted, because I didn't dare call myself...)
     Off to visit her. I'm a bit insulted the fresh-out-of-school doc called her demented. I want to see her give him a run for his money.

Sunday, 16 December 2012

Hobbit ... it was okay.

I liked it and ate a bucket and a half of popcorn (which predictably results in severe tummy ache for days and I still can't move my tongue properly. Also, I've drank about four gallons of liquid since and still hadn't had a need to pee. But it was worth it.). 
             I just thought it would be better. It’s been a while since I saw a movie in such a mess.

Things that disappointed me:
-          First thing that pissed me off was that the local theater suddenly charged twice the prize for the tickets, as it was supposed to be a long movie. It’s the first time I hear of this and it’s not the only long movie. But since kids come see it and kids drag parents along, this is an excellent opportunity to milk not 22 but 44 bucks for a fucking film from a family.
-          I’m SOOOOO gorram over trilogies. Seriously, could you PLEASE stop stretching single features into infinity?! NOBODY wants to watch another eleven hours of a story that originated in a really cute and short adventure book. Granted nobody will ever try to do Sillmarillion nor any of Hurin’s kids or any other of the 257 or so books JRR wrote, plus HIS kids, but when I went in, I really wanted to see Beorn and how the company escapes Mirkwood in barrels and how somewhere over the hill five armies meet. I’ve already seen the hyper-epic Lord of The Rings, which comes from a 4000 page book. What was this, a fucking echo?
-          No,  seriously, was this a fucking echo? Is it just me or did they re-use scenes from the LOTR about two dozen times?? Gandalf growing in anger in BagEnd? Gandalf whispering to a moth for help? Eagles coming to rescue good guys in slow motion? Going up a tricky mountain in storm? Running around in a rocky maze with a glowing sword? Rohan scenery/orc running. Most of Gandalf’s text. Galadriel’s hair. Seriously, I COULD go on.Those were, like the SAME takes.
-          There were supposed to be 13 dwarves. I only remember three. There was one with dark hair who looked distinctly human and he’s shown more than any of the other, bar the leader, combined. There wasn’t a close-up of the one with the axe in his head ONCE. I know, because I was waiting for it. I know the costumography for the dwarves was extremely elaborate and I wanted to see it. All I saw here was that guy’s big black eyes and a lot of colorful beards. 

See this guy in the middle? Who the fuck was that? People didn't come to see cute human-looking dwarves. They came to see 13 different versions of Gimli. What, you thought the movie will suffer for the lack of hot dudes in odd hair? They make Twillight films for that reason.
-          Although casting was wonderful, most of the close-ups on lead characters consisted of a) confused Bilbo b) very old Gandalf who didn’t really seem to know where he was most of the time, c) dramatically lit one-brow-look, shot from above of Thorin, dangerous, but tragic hottin with gray highlights.. and d) really pretty wide angle landscape. Really pretty.
-          I fucking hate having to wait another eon to see what they will copy from LOTR next. I already know the story, I’ve read the book four million times.
-          At least all the giggling girls and most gay men won’t have to wait to see what Legolas’ dad looks like. Although I expected someone a lot more good looking, I am glad they cast and dressed up an anemic drag queen. He is, after all, supposed to be a sleazy villain. In my mind, and probably in Tolkien’s, though, he was this really hot woods creature, potent in life and limb, athletic, energetic, arrogant and with a crown of thing ripped out from the ground. Certainly someone you don’t regret being put in chains by. What we got was the third runner up for the role of Legolas, if only he wasn’t older, more boring and uglier.
-          There was something odd with the camera or the way it was shot or something, that doesn’t agree with me. Like there was too much of everything and where there was supposed to be action, I could hardly tell who was who and what was going on. Usually I just stuck to the good old rule of running through dungeons or though dragons: follow the pointy hat.
-          It felt like most of the dialogue was delivered rather pompously. Like they were rehearsing an Oscar speech or something.

Things I  really liked:
-          Radagast the Brown. In love! Well, not me personally, but I am SO dialing his number and putting the phone to Granny Weatherwax’s ear and jumping away … He was perfect. And I don’t even think his story line is important in any way.
-          Did you know bunnies actually do that, before they change? Not actually thump/drum the ground with their foot in alarm, but they actually pump up their blood-flow. Like a spasm. And then -zaaap--! Those bunnies had Gangnam!
-          Thorin. Richard Armitage played him beautifully. I’ve never had any particular desire to fuck a dwarf in my stories, but I’ll expand my list of ‘dos’ in close future. Also, most of his close-ups and slow-motions are really impressive.
-          The pale orc. Whatshisface. Ironhand.  Whatever. Definitely writing a story about fucking him. Dunno, I’m just into orcs lately. Must be those neck-to-shoulder muscles.
-          Bilbo. But if I say anything nice about Martin Freeman, people will think he’s paying me. That man is truly a pleasure to watch on-screen. He was perfect as Arthur Dent, he was perfect as a soft-porn actor in Love, actually, great as Watson, he is simply adorable.
-          Scenery, as said before.
-          Costumes.
-          Men singing. Lately a turn-on. Not elves, though. I loved the scene in which the deaf old dwarf stuffs cloth into his hearing device to skip the elfish recital during diner.
-          Also, we get to see/hear more of Figwit. Everyone wants to have BDSM sex with Figwit. That cutsie has more smut fanfic in the Library Of Moria than all of Fellowship.
-          No Aragorn. Thank the fucking Gods. I didn’t need to see old Bilbo or young Frodo again either. That was a different move, people!! I like to remember those chars as they were.
-          A certain array of characters even I wouldn’t bed. Which is saying something in the direction of imagination of the Jackson ensemble.Or did Del Toro come up with the gruesome goblin king? (Hah. That reminds me of David Bowie. Not the gruesome part.)
-          The snoring moths.

Friday, 14 December 2012

Philosophy ... ugh.

Thanks, Dr. Žižek, for explaining why Gangnam Style is so brilliant. Is it truly up to philosophers to see the depth and message behind everything, no matter how nuts? Is EVERYTHING that hits the market a clear mirror of our evolution? Is it up to philosophers to dig out the cancer cells of society and put them up for everyone to see in hope things actually change? 

Why the fuck didn't anyone mention this when I took all those philosophy classes in college? All we did was chew on ancient, obsolete giants of wit and bullshitted. 

I always knew there was something we were missing. Now I know. Style.

Matthew Lewis

Hihi, reality check. They grow up so fast =D
(The little boy playing Neville Longbottom in Harry Potter all those years ago...)

... all grown up. I had to post this. These things always make my day :D Hopefully he's not a complete moron for being famous.

Thursday, 13 December 2012

Appearances and stuff

Things, I notice lately, that turn me on: 

When people kneel down/squat on one knee to pick something up or touch something on the floor. I have no idea why (probably, because I don't like doing that myself, as I don't like being any closer to the ground than strictly necessary), but I get really really aroused if I see it done by someone (who has good looking legs). The pose is hard to describe, because I like when one knee is pointing down and the other up to the chest, but I know it when I see it.

Rounded chins on thin people. In photography I loooove the beautiful jawline that accentuates the neck, but in people who move and talk, I like the plumper curve. Hayden Panettiere in Nashville plays this really well. When she's not posing and she pushes her jaw in, she gets this adorable underchin. So, so cute.

People slurring certain sound ever so slightly. When they say shhesh instead of s. Not like they're retarded, but as if it was an accent. Turn on, again :))

People who have naturally darker eyelids. I find that to be just amazing. Like they spent an hour applying natural looking makeup on their eyes every morning. (like I must to get the effect). Also, if their eyelids are sort of perpetually, ever so slightly moist, that is a slam dunk for my affection. I've kissed the General's eyelids so many times because of this, I'm amazed his eyeballs haven't been pushed back into his scull.

Things that really freak me out:

Men who pay money for their physical appearance. (Visiting barbers notwithstanding.) Well, not just men, but more men than women. I understand a woman wants to look pretty, it's in their nature and almost all go to hairdressers and suchlike. (I don't bother as trying to be pretty would be lost on me and it has never been my deciding chip.) But men are supposed to be confident and aggressive in their nonchalance. For a man to go see a beautician to shape their brows, my god. I'm not sure whether to laugh or cry.

In fact, men who tend to their body hair, at all. I understand that at times it's aesthetically preferable to shave the chest if only a few hairs are sticking out or if you are doing a very expensive swimsuit commercial for D&G or a PG-13 adventure movie, but if I see a man who has hair on their tummy going down shaved into a line, I would refuse to give such a man a social chance even if he was a Nobel peace prize winner. I think if I got the chance to bed even Arnold Vosloo and he turned out to have his boy parts shaved into a certain elegant form, I would run away screaming.

Another turn off regarding floors. Having a dirt-phobia is such a nuisance. I'm telling ya. Even if I keep my living-area floors reasonably clean and vacuum rather regularly, and don't allow pets to come into the living room... If we cleaned the floor AN HOUR beforehand, when we jump in to have a quickie on a sofa or something, and a cushion or a blankie gets pushed off, I notice it. My temperature rising gets kicked down a few percent. And if the floor hasn't been cleaned in a few days and a cushion gets pushed off, I actually find a position to pick it up during and shake it. Which isn't always easy as the General tends to make things fairly all over the place, but I make an effort. I can't concentrate otherwise.

Aristocrats. People, born into money and title who think they can talk down to other people, because they were born into servant status. People, so bored and narrow minded, that they spend their days in rigid pedantness so acute, they are able to resent you for life if you look in the wrong direction when you shake their hand. People who make other people bow. People, who have a say in who goes to school and not, who gets to eat and not, who gets to marry whom or not. I am very happy to be born in distinctly socialistic and liberal environment. I would have been in a lot of trouble otherwise. Unless maybe if I was the executioner in the French Revolution, pulling the lever of the guillotine.

Wednesday, 12 December 2012

K. Follett's Fall of Giants

Am reading a nice book. Not 'my favourite book, like, ewah', but nice. A good winter book for reading-under-the-covers-while-your-husband-is-sleeping-off-his-night-shift-and-it's-minus-fifteen-outside. It has a nice narrative and I generally like that genre - I like books in which something actually happens. Drej is editing a good novel in which not many things happen or very many within a person. It's not likely, no matter how well written, that I will read that one. But I am glad someone wrote it.
              I am an incredibly slow reader. Valley of Horses was boring and I just flipped through page after page of her making crafty tools and him fathering Ukraine until I got to page 300 or so. That one really didn't pull me in, despite my efforts. I just quit trying to find the excellence I swear by in Clan of The Cave Bear. It gets me thinking that reading the first one so in-love could just have been the dire circumstances in which I read Clan. I was in Mauritania in July, alone, behind a rock in the middle of the desert. Reading about cool forresty adventures at the dawn of time felt amazing. It was one of the rare books I ever read to the end. (It was the only one I had on me at the time.)
              That's mainly why I always read several books at once. If I only read one, I would never make it. But I read only a few pages at a time. In fact I cannot abide people who claim they read a book a day. Of course, if you then never remember a single thing from it, sure. But I have a mind for detail. That's how much I awe in that which is written. I remember whole sections verbatim. Well, 90% verbatim and ten percent how my mind would think to make it more like I would write it :) When you learn about those monks that memorised whole tomes to be able to copy them later - that's bullshit. half the time there is no way of knowing what the heck dudes like Plato were really thinking.
              The negative reviews I read so far about it (I only ever read negatives) are mostly American and blame things like 'too many characters, I couldn't follow, to many things going on at the same time.'... Another man wrote he put it down when things got too sexy, said he wanted a proper historic novel. Was the last woman you had sex with your birth village prostitute, mister? Anyhoo, I didn't take the book because I thought it was an exact account of affairs that brought down the aristocracy (good riddance, too). General cannot read fiction as he cannot see the purpose of it. I like it because a good fiction includes several accurate elements. That's like schooling in a candy store. And American professors dislike it. That's usually a telltale sign it's worth a winter read. 

           There is a very vast difference between a good book and a nice book. Vast. It's the same with movies. Everybody knows, without even having seen the later, that Stalker is about fifty-seven-thousand times better than Hobbit, but I will much rather watch the Hobbit come tomorrow night. It tickles bits of me that *I* prefer having tickled. I'll deal with profound existential materialistic soul that has ... well, materialised in Dr. Žižek when I am much, much older. Like, dead.
           Instead, I'm on the fourteenth page of the Buttons Clinic short story. Another reason I read so slow is because good books incite new ideas. Like to write about places I wouldn't mind visiting. Buttons is one of the 'Wunderlust', or better yet 'Weldlust' series.  The gang purchased a timeless clinic in an old buttons factory and is able to service poor women and children thorough London's history, starting at the Brythonic times. Rule is, all materials, food and medicine must be indigenous and familiar to the patients, otherwise they don't work. It's a cute story, incidentally using Snufkin who comes by on his way from hibernating Moomin valley to warmer places as an audience surrogate. I have, since writing it, learnt how to make household penicillin, antibiotics, soap, tampons and fatty brew. My respect for garlic has just tripled.
           This coming from a person who thinks mould makes a cute house pet.

Monday, 10 December 2012

DJ Beeba in da hause, yo!

 .. This is what happens after you discover you have a pretty smachy mashing program right here in the Adobe family. Mind, this isn't like the first novel, which can at times be very good. This is just something that happens after you discover you have a mashing program in the Adobe family by miss-clicking Photoshop.My first mash! :D

I tried mashing Chopin and Cat People by Bowie first, but upon the progress, I realised I pretty much hate most of Chopin. 

Once again the question: "Hm, I wonder what does this do...?" proves triumphant.But am not quitting my day job just yet. Oh, wait. I don't have a day job.

Doggywalking HDR

... It was minus 15 this morning,. That's 15 degrrreeezz below freezing point. I needed something to distract myself. O.o

Saturday, 8 December 2012

... and another one of Andreja, as I cannot get enough of her..

The flower shot shoot: Anita

bronze MUA: Lili Art Muc
ice queen blue MUA: moi
Location: the Novak flower shop, celje