Wishing for Spring

Howdy guys!  Here I am, a week after my last post... and just when tardiness and lack of commitment were sins I thought I had almost stopped committing.

Anyway, so I have had quite a tiring week. I am not even sure why, but probably due to the large amount of cake I have eaten. Let me explain this point, my Mother is not at home so my thirteen year old sister has joyfully taken on the task of playing 'Mummy' and, if this lasts into adulthood which I doubt, she is certainly going to be a yummy one, but possibly to some very large children. Yesterday she made us Victoria sponge and today she made us brownies. I have no idea what she has in store for tomorrow, but I have already had the whole sinking feeling of 'I am going to be consuming so many calories' Blast!

(By the way, skip the next paragraph if you do not wish to hear a mini rant about a completely unrelated subject. In fact, you can do so anyway - it is not very interesting and some people may get offended)

Another issue with me this week? The realisation that many feminists have too much time on their hands to get angry at everything. Cartoons, Toy Story 3 (An old article I read. Although how they think a Barbie who quotes John Locke is sexist, especially because the issue was not the fact that she was a Barbie, I honestly do not know) and the use of the word 'Miss' or 'Actress', which just irritates me because they would have us replace 'Miss' by 'Ms' which is a terribly ugly and unpleasant sounding word. It is as if somebody could simply not be bothered to say 'Mrs' or 'Miss'. I managed to severely irritate one of my female teachers, asking if she was married so I would know whether to call her Miss or Mrs. I refuse to hear the disgusting word 'Ms' comign from my own mouth. If they have to go for a word somewhere in the middle, can they not try something slightly more pleasing sounding? Oh, and I know the old-fashioned connotations of the word 'Actress' being associated with prostitutes, but this being the 21st century, does anyone ever actually hear the word Actress and think 'prostitute' anymore? Serious actresses who will insist on being called 'Actors' are not being feminist in my opinion. Quite the opposite. This suggests that somehow a feminine form of a word is lesser to a masculine form, and that we should therefore all adopt the masculine form.
Let's be really feminist - why don't we call all 'actors' no matter their gender by the word 'actresses'? Why not? (Well, that last bit was silly but even so. Why can they not do something valuable with their time? Instead of getting angry with a world which, more or less, accepts them and treats them as equal, why can they not do more for women in countries where their human right are completely ignored, based almost entirely on their gender? Or where marital rape is still legal?)
Any arguments that anyone has regarding this issue, in particular the use of the word 'Miss' will be re-buffed without pity. You have been warned and this is only the tip of the argument.

I think I should swiftly proceed  onto a subject that makes me far less irritable and argumentative. I am introducing to you my outfit for the day, worn because I badly needed some brighter colours, then black to reflect my mood.

 

 

Now, although I wished to wear bright, warm colours, there was no real inspiration to this but, thanks to a sibling, I was forced to come up with one.

The following is a pretty accurate script of the exchange between the two of us:

Sibling: Zoé! Can you help me with... um... what are you dressed up as?

Myself: I am not dressed up.

Sibling: Well, what's your inspiration?

Myself: ... a painting by Mark Rothko (Thinking: It was on the spot, but thank God I didn't say the German Flag - no offence to any Germans)

Sibling:  Who's he? (Before waiting for an answer) You look sort of Spanish.

Myself: (Thinking: Thank God he/she didn't say German Flag - no offence to any Germans) I can live with that. There is something quite exotic about looking hispanic. Not that I do, of course. Firstly, I am too pale.

Sibling: You could dance the flamenco.

Myself: ...........................?

Sibling: Or West Side Story

Myself: I'll keep that in mind.

"Dying for a taste of Spring, and so glad that the beginnings of it are emerging. I am so sick of being permanently cold in a house with no central heating!"

(No Joke. My Father does not believe in the concept of central heating before December and after January, and even then it's touch and go. So I hope you understand because you can fill a hot water bottle up only so many times. Oh, and he - referring to my Father - has stolen my electric heater because I kept leaving it on when I was not in the room *Sigh*)

  

Is Rothko Art? I know some people can be cynical about this sort of thing, especially in light of the amount of money they make and the fact that Rothko paintings have been known to be hung the wrong way around by curators in Art exhibitions, but I think it most certainly is. Art can be many things. Rothko works because, at the time, it was new. That is what art is in many cases. 'The defeat of habit by originality' or finding a new way of looking at things and doing something that has not been done before.

Besides, I like Rothko pieces. They have the ability of awaking emotions, and they are not unpleasant to look at.

Guess what I found today? Daffodils! A sure sign that the cold can not last forever. On the other hand, they have probably been growing for a while and I have developed a tendency not to go outside very much when at home. The Garden is lovely at this time of year, but I am quite content with looking at it from the relative warmth - in comparison - of the freezing cold house in which I live. On that note, I have just notice that I can not feel my nose or my toes anymore. Never a good sign, so I might have to take a moment to get the blood circulating again and perhaps fill a fourth hot water bottle and fetch a second blanket to go under my duvet.

The sun at noon to higher air,
Unharnessing the silver Pair
That late before his chariot swam,
Rides on the gold wool of the Ram.

So braver notes the storm-cock sings
To start the rusted wheel of things,
And brutes in field and brutes in pen
Leap that the world goes round again.

The boys are up the woods with day
To fetch the daffodils away,
And home at noonday from the hills
They bring no dearth of daffodils.

Afield for palms the girls repair,
And sure enough the palms are there,
And each will find by hedge or pond
Her waving silver-tufted wand.

In farm and field through all the shire
The eye beholds the heart’s desire;
Ah, let not only mine be vain,
For lovers should be loved again.

-  A. E. Housman

Wearing:

Yves Saint Laurent Red Lip Gloss

Clarins Mascara

Black Chanel Eyeliner

A yellow skirt (don't ask me where it is from)

Black Lace Blouse that used to belong to my Grandmother

Red Pashmina

Red Radley Handbag

Opaque Black Tights (available in any good supermarket ;)

Red Scarf in hair - it was originally part of the hanging sleeves on my evil queen costume, but my sister cut it off. I was not happy with her.

Red Shoes (from Clarks I believe but sshhh... don't tell)

Orange Ribbon (from any good craft shop, so I can't remember which one)

Oh, and my Ralph Lauren Glasses, but I where those all the time or I would not be able to see. I am honestly as blind as a bat, or mole if you prefer.

^^^ The view from my window as the sun sets.

 Oh dear. I have just realised that my parting makes me look as though I had a slightly bald patch. Sugar!

Thank you for taking time to read my blog. Please Comment (but not to say that I look like a German Flag. As you can probably guess, I am a little paranoid about that) and do Follow!