Grace Notes @ Snarkattack

A few nights ago, a close friend had put me in the position where I just couldn’t cancel. He’s too damn nice a guy and it’d been a while since I’d seen him. This was also a good opportunity to pick up my meds, which I’d been procrastinating doing for quite some time.

The pharmacist was a tad concerned about the dose and the number of medications I was on, as well as my size. I wasn’t too fussed – Michael Jackson’s Thriller was on in the background (how cool is that?!).

The pharmacist also asked me if I was epileptic. The mood stabiliser I’m on is primarily used for treatment of epilepsy, rather than in psychiatry. Nope, just depressed, I tell her.

But it might be worth jotting down what to do if someone is having an epileptic fit (grand mal – seizure-type fit).

1. Make sure they have something cushioned under their head so they don’t hit it hard on the ground and thus injure themselves that way
2. Lie them down, and turn them onto their side so that they cannot choke on their tongue and/or vomit
3. Do not put anything hard in their mouths to prevent lockjaw – but ensure airways are not blocked or will not become blocked. This might mean you have to put your fingers in their mouth and ‘unfold’ their tongue to prevent choking.
4. Stay with them and reassure them when they come round. Yes, they may have soiled themselves, but we’ve all done that as babies so I’m sure we can find it in our hearts to be understanding

There are also petit mal seizures, where the person just ‘zones out’ as if they’re daydreaming. They can appear to be staring into nothingness for a lot longer than non-epileptics do. Again, just make sure they are in a safe or quiet place out of harm’s way (as in not going to get run over) and stay with them till they come out of it.

In a somewhat snide manner, someone recently remarked to me that I’d like Sydney (as in the city in Australia) because it was superficial.

Ha ha, funny. Yes, I’m being sarcastic. I’ve been to Sydney, didn’t much care for it. I abhor humidity and aside from that it doesn’t have that much going for it. It’s kind of a crap version of London. (Sun 10/12/06 – ironically the person who suggested I should go to Sydney moved back to Melbourne. Is there a connection with that incident and the thought below?)

Neither of which are as hypocritical as Melbourne, but you’re all aware of my thoughts on that.

Ah…life in Britain, it’s very bleak unless you happen to be well-off. Fondly, I remember two albums of a band named Blur entirely devoted to taking the piss out of the upper classes and the waste that is existence – Parklife and The Great Escape. Parklife is the earlier out of the two, and might be remembered for its Eurotrash anthem ‘Girls and Boys’.

Then there’s ‘Tracy Jacks’, a tale of a nine-to-fiver who cracks up and goes mental under the pressure of modern life. And who could forget ‘Bank Holiday’ when all the shops are closed and the plebs get hell-trashed to (again) escape the drudgery of modern living. The instrumentation is all very catchy and melodic – I swear it’d be a punk album if there were more screeching and simpler musical composition, or tonelessness.

As for The Great Escape? Well, I wouldn’t know what on earth a quango was if I didn’t first hear the word in a Blur song (‘Mr Robinson’s Quango’) – you’d think I’d have no use for it but one day whilst playing Scrabble someone had opened up the dictionary to a random page and asked me what any old word meant. It happened the word chosen was ‘quango’. I think we were all scared that someone in our circle actually knew the definition (being a typical child, I ran to my father – because everyone knows fathers know everything).

So what the hell happened to Blur? ‘Song #2′ killed what my continuing love of them. Do you remember a time when every second bloody extreme sports advert featured that bleeding ’song’, if you can even call it that?! Bring back vintage Blur, when they were all punky and had bass lines that made you want to take off all your clothes. Oh, hang on, that’s just me, isn’t it.

It’s probably wrong to wish that arseholes and bitches will one day fall flat on their faces, but I’m a base creature and I have to say, I’m kind of waiting for it to happen to a bunch of people. Is that wrong?

I try not to think about it too much, but lately for the first time in a good long while, I find myself thinking about my Japanese friend who died of cancer a few years back.
Perhaps it has something to do with seeing the 27-year-old Brazilian man who was shot a year ago in a Tube carriage in inner London. I shouldn’t be watching the news, but my parents just came into the sunroom and decided to forget my ‘no news’ rule. Well, at least my father doesn’t yell at me for having nightmares I can’t control.

I miss my Japanese friend. He was the sort of person that could make you piss yourself with laughter because he was a gifted storyteller. It seems unfair that he passed away so young (I know NMD would give me a lecture on saying that: well, I’ll start listening to your lectures when you visit the Wizard of Oz and ask him to give you a heart). Is it bad that I wished we could swap places?

I wish I could find the haiku I wrote at work on our lunch break when Nobuo was still alive. God, he used to smoke a lot. It’s almost ironic that he didn’t die of lung cancer. I’ve rummaged through countless shoeboxes and notebooks and still can’t find those stupid pieces of paper. Please let them turn up eventually.

But love is about letting go, so they say. Kind of sick of the concept of late, to be honest. It might have something to do with the fact that of late appalling examples claiming to illustrate love threaten to suffocate me. I love you so I can treat you like shit. I love you and so I let you out when you want to go. I love you so I yell at you when you make me angry. I love myself so I stay away from you and stop injuring myself. I don’t love you because it gives me licence to pretend you don’t exist unless I need something from you. It’s just a feeling, thanks to some electrical impulses and chemicals in the brain.

I wish I could go back to a time when I didn’t know that was the case, but that would be stupid, wouldn’t it?

Who would’ve thought anyone would want to look like a pirate two years ago. Oh my how the times change.[

The following is provided with much thanks to demoiselleangel on LiveJournal.

So a few days ago, I emailed M.A.C. Cosmetics to ask them how to achieve the Captain Jack Sparrow eye-liner look. I also suggested they package whatever products it was in a tie-in to the film. This was the reply I received; I like to think I brightened the day of at least one M.A.C. employee.

[...]

My Email:

“Hi there; I have a bit of an unusual question for you. I noticed at the end of the film “Pirates of the Caribbean” that M.A.C. was listed as the makeup brand used. I was wondering what product/products were used on Johnny Depp to create Jack Sparrow’s smudged eye-liner type look? I’ve tried using a regular ol’ black eye-liner pencil with poor results. Is it a creme shadow and liquid liner? A wet-dry liner? Personally, I think it’d be fab publicity to package whatever product it is with a tie-in to “Pirates.” Lots of folks would be interested, believe me. Anyway, thanks for taking the time to listen to this rather unusual question. Cheers!”

M.A.C.’s Reply:

Thank you for taking the time to email us at M•A•C Cosmetics Online.

Johnny Depp’s smudged, smoky eye effect was a great, authentic pirates look indeed. We appreciate your recommendations and will forward your comments to our Corporate Management office.

We also appreciate the opportunity to explain, that while professional makeup artists and stylists frequently use M•A•C products, they are not always commissioned directly by M•A•C Cosmetics Inc. to provide makeup application services on celebrities or models. Therefore, we are not always informed by the makeup artists as to what was used on a celebrity, such as Johnny Depp, at any given time or for any one particular movie, photo shoot or personal appearance.

I’ve seen the movie and press photos for Pirates of the Caribbean and am happy to provide you with details on how to create a similar look with our products.

1. Begin by applying Wedge matte eyeshadow (a warm taupe-beige) from lash line to brow bone using brush #252.
2. Pat Blacktrack fluidline over your lid using brush #242, then blend for an undone, imperfect look.
3. With brush #219, trace a thick line of Blacktrack along your lower lashes for a dramatic frame to the eye.
4. Add Black Tied velvet eyeshadow (a midnight black with silver-white sparkle) along the inner half of your lash lines on the upper and lower lashlines with brush #219 for a touch of shimmered, almost wet looking texture.
5. Add 2 coats of All Black Fibre Rich Lash to your lashes and your Johnny Depp pirate inspired look is complete.

There goes my theory – in the first film, I could’ve sworn it was Shu Uemura’s ME silver 945 e/s smudged on his lids. Oh well.

The last couple of days it has started to dawn on me why it is that humans marry.

Sharing a bed with a human keeps you warm in the colder weather, and christ has it been cold overnight the past few days! When you marry, you get to live in your own place, therefore giving you more space to put all the crap you collect over the years that are threatening to take over your bedroom, which won’t contain your belongings forever. Recipes are usually set up so you can make things to serve multiples of two.
Marriage…practical. Pfft.

If you want a true mate for life, find your feline match. Humans for the most part are crap – they’re boring, they’re selfish, they’re too much work. Myself included, of course (unless I cease to be human…). I was just thinking, while glancing at a very sweet photograph of my cat that he does so little for me in the way of practical, everyday stuff and yet just when I think he’s forgotten me, or only remembers me because I get the food out of the fridge, he’ll hop up next to me and lie on my tummy.

Because my tummy is hurting. How do animals do that? They have some weird sort of magic. Admittedly, I don’t really fancy the idea of a human jumping up onto my gut because it’d most likely do a bit of internal damage.

He’s also really good at instilling peace. Sometimes too good! Looking at him nodding off tends to make me want to take a nice nap. Humans are more peaceful…when they’re absent. Not all of them, but most. More often than not, the humans you want hanging round are too busy running around, but not dear Puss. He will always have a few minutes in the day to come and sit next to me, and purr contentedly. Enjoying my company, I hope. I like to think so. They’re also a bit awkward with their affections, which puts people like me at ease.

I guess there’s a whole bunch of stuff you can only do with humans that you can’t do with cats, but you can always pay for that… Eh, things could be worse, cats are really loving friends and a few close friends are better than lots of not-so-close ones. To me, anyway.

There’s nothing like a weekend of complete and utter slobbery to cheer a girl up. I haven’t been this regular-person happy to be spending time alone since…I don’t even remember.

I’ve only been waiting 6 years! Anyway…

Managed to try out a few products this week, not as many as I’d like, of course.

Lush ‘Fever’ massage bar – oh my! This has a heavenly scent that you want to get all over your bedsheets! No, you don’t at all need to have someone to massage you. Just rub it on your body as it’s pretty much solid oils that melt with your body heat, and think of it as a moisturiser. It’s extremely floral and a tad powdery and it’s still lingering on my bedsheets! It’s scented with rose, jasmine and sandalwood. Very nice.

Pop Beauty Bee stung lip stain in ‘Velvet Sting’ – not another lip plumper! I’ve got pretty full lips, so any such product is going to make me look like I’ve been smacked in the mouth. But I loved the colour, medium-dark rose-pink or wine, really flattering colour for autumn. Unlike another lip plumping gloss I’ve tried, this one doesn’t sting or tingle like almighty… Not to mention, it works, makes your lips fuller without pain or surgery. But the brand is a tad expensive here. I do want the shade ‘Ruby Stain’ – a warm tomato-type red with slight gold shimmer.

Little Shop of Beauty Hula girl body souffle in Powder Puff – a light, silky body moisturiser that contains virgin coco de creme so I prefer this for summer, but it took a while to reach me. The scent, as the name suggests is like baby powder, but a bit more perfumish. I love this brand – there is next to no preservatives in their products so you’ve got to use them up quickly, and your order is custom-made when received. A tad expensive, but well worth it, especially if you have sensitive skin!

Pretty small list, I should have jotted down other things I used as I can’t recall them all now. Whoops. There’s the week coming though!

Ah, at last! Excuse the title, I was feeling silly.

Finally starting to get some work done! It’s been a nice, laidback weekend, and I’ve been up all night watching amusing television and writing up bits and pieces of reviews for Blogcritics – the beginnings of a concert review. I’ve also received a work in PDF format so I can start reading it straightaway.
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Ah, the four humours! Does anyone remember that old thing, where the body supposedly has four fluids and when they are out of balance it alters your mood accordingly?

In case you’re wondering, the title to this entry is in reference to a song by Tobias Hume. My friend Chris sings in the recording. He’s ace. And overseas. I do miss him. But he’ll be back in Melbourne this December for Handel’s Rinaldo – he’s a countertenor with the voice of an angel, sigh.

Anyway, I saw this quiz that tells you what temperament you are, and realised it was based on the theory of the humours, so I did it. I saw it here (thanks Tash).

Duh, as if my humour wasn’t predictible! Ugh, if you needed further proof, I’m actually seeing my shrink tomorrow. Rapture! Take a squiz at the results below…

You Have a Melancholic Temperament

Introspective and reflective, you think about everything and anything. You are a soft-hearted daydreamer. You long for your ideal life. You love silence and solitude. Everyday life is usually too chaotic for you. Given enough time alone, it’s easy for you to find inner peace. You tend to be spiritual, having found your own meaning of life. Wise and patient, you can help people through difficult times. At your worst, you brood and sulk. Your negative thoughts can trap you. You are reserved and withdrawn. This makes it hard to connect to others. You tend to over think small things, making decisions difficult.

A lonely Friday evening, what blissful delights can one conjure for solace?

Let’s tuck into the bath stash box and see, eh? But not without help from a lovely lady who sent an unexpected gift.

Yes, I have this box, and it houses my bath melts, sachets of additives and such. It was time for one of those pampering baths, and so I rummaged through it. Aha! Some Japanese bath salts scented with rose, that dyed the bathwater a vibrant pink. I looked at my body as it lay in the water – it seemed not my own, limbs rosy like the water.

The soap smelled edible – it was a piece of Lush’s ‘Emperor of Ice Cream’ buttercream (the name coming from a Wallace Stevens poem, which I’ve not read), and then after to make my skin soft, and the water milky I surrendered to yet another Japanese-style treatment: a small bag of muslin holds finely ground rice bran which is an excellent treatment for the skin, or can be added to the bathwater. This one was scented with fringed pink and had some adzuki. The fragrance is gentle, and complements the rose well. I don’t have very many floral-type lotions, but luckily have recently acquired Little Shop of Beauty’s hula girl body souffle (yes, the name is rather fanciful, but it’s lovely) in the scent ‘Powder Puff’. Needless to say, I retired smelling nice, and being extremely relaxed indeed.

But what of the present I received? I empty a padded envelope that bears a fair few objects, but two are of interest: a letter, encased in a handmade paper envelope and sealed…with wax! It seems of another world. It’s a beautiful sentiment. After I read that, I examine a paper tube which contains The Body Shop’s Magnolia EDP, the notes are as follows: ‘a classic sparkling floral fragrance that combines magnolia flowers and leaves from China with muguet, lemon blossom and white lily’.

Sadly, the citrus notes (which I imagine are the top notes) don’t die away enough for the heart and base ones to come through – but I’ll try it again in the summertime, when its warmer, floral notes are more likely to come through.

And what of the silly pink glittery puff in the attached image? They’re actually a pair of ear muffs, but I thought it might be fun to put them in the picture because they remind me of puffs that one uses for powder, or fluffy pink marshmallows. Mmm.

(well duh the photo’s mine…)

“Beauty is truth, truth beauty,–that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.”

John Keats, Ode to A Grecian Urn

It’s been mad-busy on my end. As if the very Fates conspire against me, a vast number of the Blogcritics review material I’d been assigned started to arrive this fortnight.

It’s not left me a good deal of time to review beauty products, sadly. However, now I have a good reason to knuckle down and do so.

This is dedicated to a friend of mine in Greece (in case you didn’t guess by the title), a lady who is a supreme fragrance addict, and also a lover of naturally sourced skincare like my good self. Like my geographically closer fragrance addict writer-pal, she too seems extremely eloquent when divulging the secrets of scents.

It’s hard to be an artist, sometimes, I fear. One would think “beauty addicts? again?! geez, spend your money on something that matters! Sheesh.” and to an extent you’d be right. However, as I grow more comfortable with the notion of being an adult, it seems that it is my desire and enjoyment in regards to the five senses that fuels my consumerism. Again, to an extent.

As can music and literature take you to places you’ve never been to, so can fragrance and colour. I think this too might explain my worship of the bath ritual.

Anyway, this is supposed to be a tribute to my dear Greek friend, who has had some personal tragedies very sadly, but remained strong and inspiring – especially so in regards to my own fight to stay mentally stable. The unadulterated joy that fragrance gives her is infectious.

An awfully long time ago, she sent me a treasure trove of vials, filled with perfumes of all sorts. She knows that I’m something of a gardenia/orchid whore, and I was sent things that would appeal to me. Three strike me as unforgettable: Guerlain’s Vol de Nuit, Serge Lutens’ Bois de Violette, and Guerlain’s Flora Nerolia.

Vol de Nuit is everything that I am not, in my day-to-day life: elegant, refined, polished, sophisticated. It’s a classic fragrance and it instantly makes me feel more poised, as if I too could be those things that the scent conjures. I finished the sample at least half a year ago yet I recall its scent instantly – powdery, slightly floral, sparkling like champagne.

Bois de Violette is also of similar ilk. But where Guerlain is what you would wear when decked out for a night at the opera, Violette is wearable in the daytime. This is my favourite springtime fragrance. It brings very fond memories because of the lady in question, and also because my other dear fragrance pal (author of The Fragrant Elf, as above) was horrendously kind enough to purchase me the bell jar eau de parfum in Paris – the very capital of fragrance! She could have charged me a fortune for the trouble, but no – she did not.

Flora Nerolia I tried perhaps a month ago and it was lust at first whiff. It is the fragrance out of this trio that most obviously screams “me” – it’s sexy, heady and exotic. I don’t necessarily mean I’m any of those things – but those are my instant loves in fragrance: orchids, or what I call “sex florals” – those pungent, tropical, overwhelmingly glorious scents that threaten to spin your senses into a swoon…it’s one step short of being putrid – like the scent of a skunk: offensive, pure pheremone.

When reading Anthony Burgess’ wonderful introduction to the works of James Joyce entitled Here Comes Everybody, I was introduced to another line of John Keats’:

“For the apple dies in sweetness, but I do not.”

As an orchid reaches its most pungent it alerts us that it is dying. As an apple reaches its sweetest, it too is perishing. What of this human shell of ours, the body? It takes so long to reach its full bloom, and it disappears so quickly.

And so we turn to art in hope that we may die in sweetness too, in thought if not in body.

Sorry it’s so bleeding long, but it is of interest to many, therefore I put it here, as it doesn’t qualify as a main blog topic.

Some surprises in this survey, source being Mercer Human Resource Consulting. Bear with me, it wasn’t easy to put the code in so the list appears legible and logical so apologies in advance if it looks a bit funky.
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