It's been...

... awhile since I posted a link to Sam de Brito's work but his latest column, which touches on issues of depression and how we treat depressed people, is good reading.

Fact: I want this otter in my arms yesterday.

Okay so some of these animal "facts" are more, um, facty than others. Nevertheless, this list has cheered up my bleak Friday so why don't you just click on the link and let it cheer up yours too?

Because who does not...

... love ze French kitty, non?

Yes. Yes.

A million times yes.

8 reasons to love Coco Chanel

1. “Dress shabbily and they remember the dress; dress impeccably and they remember the woman.”

2. “A girl should be two things: who and what she wants.”

3. “I don't care what you think about me. I don't think about you at all.”

4. “My life didn't please me, so I created my life.”

5. “Elegance is refusal.”

6. “You can be gorgeous at thirty, charmimg at forty, and irresistible for the rest of your life.”

7. “Some people think luxury is the opposite of poverty. It is not. It is the opposite of vulgarity.”

8. Just look at her: she's a fox.

I see...

... nothing to disagree with here.

End of the Line

$0

That is the balance on my credit card. $0. That probably doesn't seem like a big deal to anyone else but, given I've spent the past eight months paying it off, it means a lot to me.

I've never been a huge one for running up credit card bills but late last year, for various boring reasons, I had to use my card to cover a big transaction that got my card up to about $8K - a terrifying amount to me given I'd never had more than a few thousand bucks on it at a time and then only in unusual circumstances.

That it has taken 8 months to pay it off is probably an indictment on my spending habits. But it's also a fact of life that will, I hope, stop me from ever getting tempted to run up those kind of debts again. Because, as chuffed as I feel with myself for clearing it, I'm not so chuffed that I ever want to go through 8 months of penny-pinching again. Poverty blows.

Happy Friday

If I Could Tell You

Time will say nothing but I told you so
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

There are no fortunes to be sold, although,
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you I would let you know.

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reason why the leaves decay;
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

Suppose the lions all get up and go,
And the brooks and soldiers run away;
Will Time say nothing but I told you so?
If I could tell you I would let you know.

(WH Auden)

In David we trust

I don't often link to the Daily Fail without prefacing said link with a hate-filled rant but this article on David Attenborough, in which he suggests it's irresponsible to have big families and other interesting stuff, is worth reading if only to hear him use the phrase "swanning about" in the last paragraph.

Flames... on the side of my...

This article on the making of the wonderful, very silly movie Clue is long but worth reading if you are a saddo fan like me.

Bowls of fuck, served by friends

I think it was Gore Vidal who said "every time a friend succeeds I die a little". But Vidal, despite writing one of the great coming-of-age novels didn't know what he was talking about because I am, it must be said, tickled pink that my dear friend Lindsay has made her Vagenda debut with this witty and insightful gem.

Things that make me happy

That not one but two of my lovely friends invited me over to watch this Sunday's premiere of The (Australian) Bachelor. Them's good people.

Elementary

Life is a confusing, bewildering and often terrifying place. At least it is for me. So it is immensely comforting to realise, from time to time, that somewhere out there in a vast and hostile universe is another someone who thinks just as you do and loves the same things you do... in this case, that person is the gem who green-lit this absolutely marvelously fucking excellent idea.

Signs I may be a little too obsessed by my cat, Mr Whiskerley.

1. His name includes an honorific and I'm not as embarrassed about that as I should be.
2. I fall asleep with him beside me most nights and wake with him beside me most mornings.
3. I have (genuinely) put off getting out of bed because Mr W has just settled into a new (cute) position leaning against me and I don't want to... hurt his feelings.
4. I have given him nicknames, including “Whickers” and “Whickerley Woo”.
5. I imagine I can read his micro-expressions.
6. I ascribe to him complex emotions when what his “frowny face” probably means is “I am hungry” or “you are sitting in my chair, you bitch”.
7. I think of the armchair as “Mr Whiskerley’s chair”.
8. I may have more photos of him on my phone than I do of my husband (I’m too embarrassed to count).
9. I am writing this blog.