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Saturday, April 27, 2013

Secrets

I am both ridiculous & easily amused by simple things.
Shhhh...don't tell...
(Not a vintage toy piano, but I'll get around to one eventually.)
This one may look silly, but it has a lovely sound.
When I finally do record the absurd songs I've been writing, I will have kazoos & toy pianos. :D mwahahah!
 

I suck at blogging.

True story.

I keep secrets.

I do not welch on them.

Which is, perhaps, why I make such a very bad blogger.

Lips sealed.

Key thrown away.

An old skeleton key.

I am like a perplexing/annoying matrjoschka doll.

There is always one more doll hidden inside the last doll...& she's not giving up her secrets.

Perhaps I will blog photos & leave others to decipher my thoughts.

Like song lyrics that no one ever, eeeevaaar understands.

Exhibit A: I Am the Walrus?

Anyone?

John Lennon, Sir???

I'll bet you didn't realize that John & I were an item back in the early 60s.  Several decades before my birth...via Doctor Who's Tardis.  Obviously.  ;)

(John's clueless too...too much LSD in the 60s for him.)  :P

Ah, but there is glory in a nonsense rhyme.  :D

My, what a grand sentence.

Never mind.

A sort of secret.  A pilfered/commandeered Beatles album (well a 45...or is it a 35?-whatever you actually call the smaller vinyl disc thingies...I seem to have forgotten.)  Pilfered from an aunt & uncle.  (Don't worry, they won't care...they're not fond of The Beatles.)

Well, it could be that my fantastic secret keeping abilities are due rather to the fact that I am absented minded.

Perhaps I forget them?

I believe I mentioned my forgetfulness.

Do Geisha's have secrets?  Secrets of the Far East?  I feel like that could have been the tagline to some 1950s film set in a Japanese garden with cherry blossoms.  Only moderately politically incorrect, right?

Also, I am terribly oblivious.

If honked at in traffic, I will more than likely, never ever even hear.

I've had men flirt with me, only to realize the fact 10 days, or so, later.

Junk drawers hold secrets...& fanciful ice cube trays (well, mine does...ice cube trays that is).

One in particular, a shoe salesman, I was convinced he was working on commission (thus, the hovering like a helicopter) which was not the case...poor man.

I was vaguely annoyed he wouldn't let me try shoes on in peace.

So oblivious.

Oops.

I need the cartoon, acme anvil to drop on my head.

A great grandmother's vintage, heart shaped, bejeweled treasure box.

Anyhoo, I am straying from my original thought.

Secrets.

I guess I'd forgotten that these were the 'secrets' hidden inside the gold box.  Semi-gross.  My baby teeth.  Hiding them from the tooth fairy?  Who knows.

I was trying to recall some to spill.

About myself...

It wouldn't be playing nice to spill them about other people.

A secret with no answer?  Who is he?  He looks a bit like my Grandad, so I know they were related (& hence, I).  I have yet to discover the gentleman's name, but he hangs in an antique, oval frame near by brass bed.

And I'm drawing a blank.

Fudge.

I sometimes have delusions of grandeur.

(Perhaps that isn't such a secret.)

The world will bow down to my tiny, child-sized feet one day!-bahahah!

(The previous sentence was dripping with sarcasm, just in case you were worried about my hubris/megalomania/hubris...yes, I said 'hubris' twice, it's just fun, a fun word...well, mostly dripping.  I am half-serious.)  ;)

My obscenely large trove of sequined (gloriously kitschy) jackets/shirts/dresses...is perhaps, not such a secret.

I do have one secret super-power.

Although it is a bit like being Aquaman, in that I am not certain it is a truly useful 'super-power' to have.  ;)

I sing rather a bit better than I let on.

 
At least this is my belief...from what I've heard on the inside of my skull where the acoustics sound lovely.  ;)

My fear is that I am really tone-deaf like the poor suckers who appear on American Idol, convinced that they sound like...God & Freddie Mercury & Whitney Houston & Pavarotti & Streisand & Josh Groban all rolled into one delicious burrito.  ;)

 
Oh well.

Better to have hope.  ;)

And, even if you suck, you should still enjoy singing, right?  ;)

Don't let the naysayers ruin your fun.

Just be kind & bring them earplugs...you can motion when it's time to clap riotously.


Anyhoo, what a lame secret to share...as it is, I don't believe I have a great many secrets.

Perhaps none that I care to divulge.  ;)

Although, I have been called 'mysterious' before.

My feeling though, is simply, if one has not been asked a question, why give an answer?

And, oddly enough for someone writing a blog, I am my least favorite subject to discuss.

Even this feels a bit bizarre.

But there you are.

I am always a contradiction.

And who could this mysterious figure be?

Anyhoo, as it is, I've let this blog (hate the word 'blog') post sit here too long like a hen guarding the eggs.

And I have run out of things that I would like to say.

For now.

A dancing lady.

And the secrets I thought I would divulge...yeah...I have decided against such a rash & WILD, WILD thing.  ;)

That, or in letting this pot boil over the fire, bubble, bubble...I have forgotten what I was saying...which is probably the truer statement.

Is a tiny ballerina in a musical jewelry box a good secret?  I often thought it was rather wonderful & strange, little pirouetting ladies to guard sparkly trinkets.

So good night.

And have an awesomesocks day.

Tomorrow.


P.S.
And some music with toy piano & melodica to roll the credits.  As I have been obsessing over the jangly, twinkly sound of the toy piano.  And the melodica is just wonderfully weird.  And this man is just awesome.  Whoever he is.  Vladimir Yatsina.
 

~Anon, Anon!~

Monday, January 28, 2013

Merry Christmas & Happy Birthday Jesus!


A very happy, wintery white, merry & bright, spritely...unicorny...rainbowy, feathery, & good weathery Christmas to all those random folk who happen to stumble upon my little bloglette from all parts of the world!


And Happy New Year!

There was no white Christmas this year...so this is me fudging the truth, photographically speaking.  ;)

Auld Lang Syne!-whatever that actually means.


Someone out there knows.


It sounds lovely & old, but for all I know it could be a Latin curse.  ;)

My seasonal greetings are a bit belated, true.

But I am always tagging along a bit behind all the rest of the surge of humanity.

I take time to stop & sniff at the roses, as it were.

Each.&.every.single.darn.rose.individually.

So, it takes a little while to accomplish...well...anything.  ;)


Anyhoo, I was just dancing with my lipstick red colored jumpsuit on the hanger.


Like the Invisible Man...or something...mental illness does run in my family...maybe you should run away from me now.  ;)

That which happens when a brother puts 'his' finishing touches on decking the tree.
(Dancing to Mika, of course!-I am obsessed, after all.)

Cheek to cheek, of course...with the jumpsuit...not Mika...but that could work too, right?

A visit from Jolly Old Saint Nick!
Alas, I am quite silly in that way.

The grand, Spanish Lady with a sprig of metallic holly clutched in hand.  ;)
Don't judge me.  ;)

Oops...probably too late on that one, isn't it?

It's okay.

I cross my heart & hope (not) to die, that I won't put a hex on you for the weird look you must have given me at my confession.  ;)

It doesn't/didn't feel terribly Christmasy to me.

'Old person' problems.

It's like you want to dig  your fingernails into the Christmas spirit & suffocate it to keep it close, watch every single, darn Christmas movie, see every freaking light, drink wassail with the donkey at the manger scene, ride a camel...yeah.

I don't know.

But I think it must be alright after all.

Because I am still happy.

Perhaps it's not the same feeling one had being little, tossing a letter into the chimney for Santa Claus to pick up (something I did, despite never having 'believed' in Santa), but I find (for the most part), I am happy.

To quote Agatha Christie, which I think I have done before...quite often, really.

(I am forgetful.)

"I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing."

 
Just watch, come tomorrow I shall be moaning & groaning, grandly, about something trivial.

The cold.

But stupid, small, inane things make me happy.

Do things like toothpaste, hats, trees, birds, quilts, fur coats, etc...make you happy too?











Ah, the one I dubbed 'the little, drunken lamby'.  You may have to look closely.
He's fallen upon his noggin after one too many a trip to the wassail bowl.  ;)  

Little moi wishes you a:

And Mika!  Because I can.  And he was my obsession all.through.Christmas.  Duh.  ;)


P.S.
Too hilarious not to include.  Mika's lovely rendition of "Let It Snow".  
Well, lovely until he completely loses it & forgets the rest of the verses...still somehow lovely.  ;)  Too funnies.



~Merry (belated) Christmas~