the pomegranate tiger

On my wanderings today, I followed a link to a YouTube video. The video I was looking for was no longer available, but a title on the homepage caught my eye: "Sorrow" . The description read, "I decided to film myself today while feeling sad and crying, because Everybody Hurts, Sometimes." I knew I shouldn't have done it, but I couldn't help myself. Really. I clicked on the video. What followed was an excruciating 1 minute:58 seconds of a gal trying to look sad and cry. No sound. It was like a very, very bad acting exercise. You know, the kind where you're asked to think of something sad in real life and relive the moment of sadness so you'll look authentically sad while merely acting sad, but people will think you're really sad because it's such an authentic feeling of sadness you're portraying? You could almost hear the gears in her head clicking, "I'm sad, oh so sad. Remember when Scottie died, such a cute puppy,...

I've been inspired by yet another Time Goes By article, Elder Fashion – An Oxymoron . Ronni's article contends that it's next to impossible to find clothing for 50+ women that is both stylish and that fits properly. This struck a chord with me and I'm sure many of her readers. No matter what you do – exercise, eat properly, etc. – your body shape changes with age. There may or may not be extra pounds, but the distribution of those pounds change. The waist thickens, the butt and breasts drop, extra padding appears on the hips. You may still look fabulous, but it's not the same fabulous of your twenties, thirties and forties. Shopping for clothing becomes a frustrating chore. Over the years, like many women, I found a few brands of clothing that meshed good fit with my particular style. However, even within these brands, it's more and more difficult to find what I want. The fit isn't what it used to be: If the waist fits, the hips and butt are too big; if th...

Several weeks ago I read Ronni Bennet's article, N*ked Older Women , about the Dove Pro Age ads on TV. I wanted to comment, but was pressed for time, so filed it away in the dumpster known as my memory, to be responded to or blogged about later. Shortly afterwards, I saw the aforementioned ads on TV. I was impressed. They were beautiful and tastefully done. And yes, the women were naked. "Well", I thought, "At last advertisers are getting the fact that women aren't all twenty-something, anorexic, smooth-skinned, flawless models. They're showing what real older women of different shapes, sizes and colours look like. They're celebrating it in fact. Hallelujah!" I wanted to give props to Dove, despite the fact that it still is an advertising campaign, after all, and meant to sell product. A few weeks passed. Fast forward to today. I finally decided to put some of my thoughts about Dove's pro-age ads in my blog. I did a little Googl...

I got nothing today. Nada. Zilch. Moh yeh. No philosophical insights, no words of wisdom. What have I accomplished today? … You got it. – Nothing. It's rainy, wet and miserable; and I'm home alone. Boo hoo. So, I'll do another Wenda and just let my fingers type whatever comes. Here goes. It's not that I've done nothing. I just haven't done anything very useful. I've been surfing the web, writing silly flash fiction, playing Spider Solitaire, followed by Hearts, interspersed with trips to the kitchen to make tea; finding and toasting some left over garlic bread (which was delicious, by the way); and wondering what to write in my blog. Today, I came across a disagreement on one of the forums I frequent. It got pretty heated with swearing, name-calling and sarcasm. At one point, I wanted to jump into the fray, but my better judgement prevailed, and I kept out of it. It's amazing how out of control these online arguments can get and how out an...

It's not supposed to snow here in March. I woke up to this on March 1st! I'm sure I had a previous existence somewhere on a tropical island. I don't like the cold. In fact, I HATE being cold. The only way I tolerate being in cold weather is when skiing. In my dream of dreams, I live on a small island in the south Pacific in a two bedroom beach cottage with full-width open deck overlooking the ocean. I'd spend my days alternately reading in a lounge chair on the deck, icy drink near at hand, strolling the sandy beach in search of . . . . nothing in particular, and cooling off with a dip in the sea.

A side note: My last post was a joke (or at least tongue-in-cheek). I guess a few people didn't get it - humour being so subjective and all. Oh well, you can't win 'em all.