I Can't Dance But ...

They can!  This is my favourite Dance of All Time from SO YOU THINK YOU CAN DANCE, one of the very few TV shows I watch.  The first time I saw this Spectacle of Loveliness, it made me cry. Probably because I knew I will never fit into Jaime's little blue negligee.  Sniffles.  Choreographed by Wade Robson, The Hummingbird & the Flower also won an Emmy.

                                         Hok & Jaime dance to The Chairman's Waltz

The Perfect Shoes!

All my life, I have been searching ... searching ... through the icy wastes of the Arctic and the steaming moist, slug-infested jungles of Cebu.  I have spent hundreds of dollars in the search, rudely tossing aside those which did not satisfy.  And then, three weeks ago, after reading a NY Times article on what flight attendants wore on their painful tootsies, the end of my Impossible Search came via UPS in an eagerly awaited AMAZON box.



Yes folks, I received my first pair of SKECHERS GO WALK walking shoes!  Yeah, I know they don't have the exquisite soul-destroying glamor of' a pair of Loboutins or Jimmy Choos, but just look at that cushy anti-microbial sock lining and the radically lightweight midsole which promotes a natural stride!  Plus these are the most comfortable non-pinching shoes I've ever owned!  That weird neuropathy-induced "dirty foot" feeling is reduced and I actually feel like bouncing up & down, something I haven't done since my mum hid the Halloween candy on top of the fridge.  The only super annoying thing about it is that I found these shoes about three months before RETIREMENT!  WTF!  Nevertheless, I bought three pairs (navy, black & a brown suede version called Autumn GoWalk) just in case Putin decides to bomb all the SKECHER factories in the world on a bad hair day.

Remember: SKECHERS GO WALK!  Choose the one without a subtitle, because apparently, SKECHERS GoWalk also come in different permutations like SKECHERS GoWalk Glee, or SKECHERS GoWalk Frisky, which looks like a unicorn vomited all over it.  And no, SKECHERS didn't pay me a cent for this post -- I just wanted all ye oldsters with foot issues to be aware that these comfy shoes are available on ZAPPOS, AMAZON and the official SKECHERS website, even if they are a little expensive ($59 US, but cheaper on AMAZON).

PS. Bookish Confessions, Pt. 2 will return next week. Maybe. Unless I find the perfect toenail clippers! Yarrr. 

Bookish Confessions, Pt. I

My sister, Tipsy VA Loan Analyst, interviews Tipsy Mermaid on her Wildly Exciting Career Path:

Tipsy VA:  How did you find your job?

My mum found my job.  I had just spent 7 months watching Frankie Goes to Hollywood videos when my mum pushed me off our flowered gabardine couch, shoved the LA Times Classifieds in front of my nose, and told me to apply for a temp job at a downtown law library. Since I was already sick of watching the only TWO Frankie videos available on MTV, I affably agreed to apply for a two year job relabeling 10,000 law books.  

Eventually (because I was so good at applying glue), I was offered a library clerk position, and after two years of rather intermittent training, I was promoted to Library Cataloging Assistant. Huzzahh!  From there, it was only a matter of time (like 20 years!) before I reached my current title of Library Assistant Who's been Around since the founding of Angkor Wat.

What is your favourite library?

THE LONDON LIBRARY in 14 Saint James Square, London. What a beautiful building!  Their collection is particularly strong in the humanities: history, art, world literature, religion, and gorgeous Jude Law type circulation clerks.  

Your favourite books?

Difficult question. You can't have just one! I would say my favourite historical fiction is Colleen McCullough's epic ROME series, which covers the Age of Sulla to the death of Cleopatra in six gigantic doorstop volumes.  I also love the endlessly inventive Gary Jennings who wrote AZTEC and THE JOURNEYER, books I re-read almost every year for their hot Kamasutric possibilities.  Sex featuring an onion?  CHECK!  Sex with a teapot?  CHECK!  By the way, if you want to experience *erotica* by purchasing FIFTY SHADES OF GREY, don't waste your money.  If I read about one more *shattering orgasm that happened because he touched me down there, there, in my secret private place, using his very long index finger*  I think I'll puke into 15 handbags.  Good grief, woman!  Be glad the author hasn't thought of chopsticks!

Tipsy VA:  Uhhhh ... where were we?  Can we continue next week?  I .. uhh .. have something to buy on AMAZON. 

       Interview to be continued next week!     

Support Pantless Prince Harry!

What, don't people have a sense of humor anymore?  The Queen's Hussars support Prince Harry in his naked Vegas shenanigans!  (I know they don't look like Hussars at the moment, but you have to imagine them in their tall furry hats.)

Meanwhile, play this youtube whilst observing this stirring (if rather teensy) sight of British manliness.  Ahem.

 

 

                                      

96 Days & Counting!

WOW, could it be so?  I have 96 days left on my Novelty Retirement Clock!  (A blue cartoonish object purchased on Amazon for a ridiculous $14, eeek!)  Counting assorted holidays & days off for doctors appointments, that is actually only 64 working days!  (My last day is November 30, 2012.)   A lot of people tell me that the days will go by like a speeding bullet, but I don't think that's true at all.  I find every day unbearably slow, and I am actually considering using some of my vacation so I can leave even earlier. (I have 200 hours vacation which cannot be converted into service credit.)  I know my boss won't be happy about it, but frankly, who cares?  28 years of near non-appreciation from most of my superiors and I'm supposed to give a Flying F**k?  (Pardon the salty language, but I'm a bit pissed at the moment.)

It's funny, but after working here for so long, I no longer have a sense of the weight & depth of real life.  I come to work. I get my coffee. My boss emails me my assignments for the week.  She checks with me to see if I'm ok with it. I work for eight hours. If there happens to be a stray electron of amusement in my working day, it comes from some cynical friend or from the internet. I work some more.  At 4:45 PM, I leave.  And every two weeks, I get paid.  Thats It.

96 days left on my retirement clock.   Tick tock, tick tock ...

                                                   

The Portentous Puzzle of Mr Ping!

I was rummaging through my sock drawer for .. er .. socks when I came
across this mathematical thingie called THE PORTENTOUS PUZZLE OF
MR PING, with which I had apparently amused myself in the overheated
Summer of 1998.  (I had pencilled in *Summer 1998* in a corner of the
portentous notebook paper.)

Pick the number of days a week that you would like to go out for Chinese
food (or pizza or tacos or whatever).
Multiply this number by 2.
Add 5.
Multiply result by 50.

If you have already had your birthday this year, add 1748. If you haven't, add 1747.
From this number, subtract the four digit year that is your birth year.

If you followed my most explicit instructions, you should now have a THREE DIGIT number. The first digit was the original number you chose in Step 1 (how many times a week you want to go to the The Fishy Chippy!). The second 2 digits reveal your AGE (in 1998!) !!! By the Ugly Astrologers of Chaldea, is this not AMAZING ???

Note:  1998 is the only year in which this Portentous Puzzle applies.  (So sue me.)

                        
                                                                     
                                      

About Me Update! Huzzahh!

It took forever (there's a horrible heat wave at the moment) but I have just updated my ABOUT ME section.  In the bio, I also included a clip of the fabulous Marc Martel singing in QUEEN EXTRAVAGANZA, a concert tribute to my favourite band in the world.

PS. I would also like to drop in a word for the artistic creator of my blog, Sharon Henry of PLUMROSE LANE, who did a fabulous job of all the whizbangs & decoretage!  Thank you, dear Sharon.