Not since the Story of “O” has there been a book this smoking HOT. Mr. Grey is NOT your ordinary romantic hero. Oh he’s fabulously rich and ridiculously good looking of course, but he has some serious and tantalizingly mysterious flaws. (Well, part of the mystery is revealed by, like, page 30.) And it is SO hot your mouth will drop open and you’ll be drooling on the page ladies.
But, ok, I confess – I wasn’t able to actually read the whole book – I sped read 2/3 of it and then skipped to the end. The writer is a British woman and the book is set in Seattle, Washington, USA. Home of Starbucks and grunge. The heroine is supposed to be American but she speaks and thinks like an English school girl. Of 14. Which drives me CRAZY!!! Because it’s lazy bad writing. At one point she says something about meeting Mr. Grey at a coffee shop in Portland. She then orders tea. Seriously. An American college student in the place where coffee was practically INVENTED by Starbucks. In fact drinking tea comes up a lot as a comforting thing. As in “let’s have a cuppa darling, you must be just gutted”. This is just one example of the obviousness that the writer isn’t from America and didn’t take the time to research what Americans would sound like in writing. I’m not even AMERICAN and this bugs me. It was like Kevin Costner not bothering to take on an English accent in Robin Hood. Really??? Isn’t he an actor??? I just can’t understand why she wouldn’t set it in England which would have been the natural thing to do.
Then, she “melts” every time she sees Mr. Grey because he’s just a GOD and she feels she is, well, nothing. Ick. Yuck. Totally Harlequin romance. She’s never even had a date or kissed a guy – at 21!!!! Even though she’s gorgeous. Having said that – it is somewhat necessary to the story line that she be an innocent ingenue who thinks she’s a dorky literary geek and I KNOW a lot of young girls feel that way about themselves even if they ARE gorgeous. Anyway, just think Anne Hathaway (because she’s just so damn mousy isn’t she?) gazing adoringly at, say, Jude Law or Stuart Townsend with her big brown eyes. As for poor Mr. Grey, I know I’m probably missing the point and the story is supposed to be about why and how he got to be so twisted and you’re supposed to WANT to find out why and how. Personally, I wasn’t really interested because for me, neither of the characters was “real”-ly believable as human beings. I guess that’s important to me.
HOWEVER, having said all that, it’s not real, it’s a STORY and a crazy sexy hot one too! So you’ll be asking yourselves, what is wrong with her?? Every other woman who reads this book will possibly be squirming with delicious desire and probably wishing SHE were Ana and they WILL care about the sad and mysterious Mr. Grey. So please, DON’T listen to me because I’m picky and jaded and just ENJOY it! They’re making a movie too – although I really don’t know HOW – unless it’s done by those “other” studios in Hollywood? You know, the porn ones? Because out of the approximately 300 pages – 225 of them are not suitable for prime time. I bet you REALLY want to read it now huh? Well pour yourself a cuppa, have fun and make sure no one’s around when you do! Oh and guys? You might want to read it just to get educated.
(Note: My apologies for any comparison to The Story of “O” which IS a literary work and probably a realistic version of the world of BDSM.)
So what have I been DO-ing instead? Hmmm…well, good question. There was a lot of forced lying around doing nothing except watching endless hours of TV, tons of kid drama, some traveling, a lot of net-surfing, e-mailing and online game playing, tons of kid drama, the usual social butterflying and Auntie Barbie-ing, and did I say tons of kid drama??? and oh an intense week or two of pipe-dreaming about opening a business. Hahaha Who am I kidding?? As you know if you’ve read my blog before or know me at all, some days I barely have the energy to get out of BED never mind run a business! But it was incredibly fun and exciting for those two weeks and took my mind off the kid drama. Which is, thankfully, knock on wood, cross my fingers and toes and spit over my left? shoulder, done for awhile. I have NO illusions that it won’t start up again but I am definitely enjoying the break!!
Anyway, I feel like I’m coming back to creative life after a very long winter. For awhile I was considering packing up some art supplies and notebooks, a few clothes and my i-Pad and getting in my car and just DRIVING. Wherever the road took me. Wheeeee! I’ve always had a fantasy about driving across Canada (if only I could skip Saskatchewan), down the east coast, across the lower US and up the west coast all the way to Vancouver. Or maybe Alaska. In a motorhome with a name. Like Daisy. But, after watching a bunch of shows about the environmental damage the oil industry is creating, and posting a list of stuff that included “Stay Home” to help the planet on my website (that’s www.thecreativitygarden.com to toot my own horn) - I just can’t do it. So I’ve decided instead to stay right here for awhile and confine my travel to trips to Home Away and other vacation rental sites.
I could be unhappy about that – but strangely, I’m not. When Scott’s not home and ranting about the price of groceries, or the damn libcons (that’s liberal-conservatives), or greedy evil corporate executives (well I happen to agree with him on this one), etc etc it’s pretty peaceful around here in the raisin ranch. In fact, aside from coughing man on the balcony over and the people upstairs intermittently doing god-knows-what up there, it’s SUPER quiet. As I sit here typing, I can hear nothing but the dripping of the kitchen faucet (I’ll get off my lazy butt in a minute and do something about that) and the ringing in my ears. All is calm and peaceful. Ahhh. So nice.
So who needs to GO anywhere when I’ve got everything I need right here? Except maybe some chocolate to go with the seriously sexy book a certain someone gave me to read…I’d better get on that – there’s a waiting list. My next blog will be a ju-eee-cy review…
So I went to a yoga class in my building the other day and the women in charge (who is in charge of EVERYTHING in the building and patrols it regularly to see if people have left lights on, are parking illegally in the garage or are swimming without bathing caps?? No one has worn those since the 50′s??) demanded – in a high-pitched peevish tone – “do you LIVE here?”. I didn’t know whether to be offended or flattered?? (She was scrappily up in my face.) I live in a building for OVER 40′S. I am 50. Everyone else, with the exception of a few single under 50′s, is over 70. So, was she questioning if I was OLD enough to live there? I’m going to assume yes. And decide to feel flattered.
Ok so, I’ve done Ashtanga, Hatha and Bikram but never this strange variation called “Senior’s Yoga”. Due to the age of the participants (including the instructor who looked to be about 65 and was male, overweight, and wearing a hockey jersey and shorts) it was a very sloooooowwwww and gentle version of Hatha. Nice long, slow stretches in super easy poses (non of those difficult poses like Astavakarasana - like I’ve ever done THAT in my life?? Or can even pronounce it?) while the instructor talked soothingly about love and peace and opening the heart center.
I have to admit. I liked it. A lot. Those super-slow stretches were actually creating some heat and resistance in my body. And, I ALSO have to admit – I have a bad attitude towards my fellow older condo dwellers. Like any “youngster”, I make assumptions about them. Like, that they’re TOO OLD to get a sex joke and would be shocked and appalled by what the kids are up to today (ok, I am shocked by what the kids are up to today). Or they’re TOO OLD to like new music (because you know, I listen to that stuff all the time and NOT Lite 96 or the oldies station), or they’re TOO OLD to appreciate good movies, ”cutting-edge” books, or the latest trends (that’s because everything old is new again and they’ve seen it all before). Which is all hilarious because I KNOW my kids are thinking exactly the same thing about ME.
The truth is, these venerable souls have way more wisdom than I do. (Well, some of them – some never seem to learn anything or have forgotten everything?). They’ve had a lot of time to observe, take in and learn from their experiences in the world. Even if it’s how to make crackers – who makes crackers anymore?? And I need to honour that.
So I’ll be going to another yoga class – hey! It’s Friday and there’s one today! ‘Scuse me while I put on my sweats and baggy t-shirt - this ain’t no Lulu Lemon crowd.
So I woke up extra early again this morning – BOING! Looked over at the clock – it’s 4:30 am. I blearily remember my dreams which seemed to be filled with…really large…fruit?? and were extremely vivid in colour. I remember thinking – have I always dreamed in pictures? (Of course I have! It’s just the mental confusion that confused me.)
This early rising is a new thing for me and an added bonus of the men-o-pause. Which, I have to say, is going rather well. No hot flashes anymore, no hormonal rages, no headaches. I’m not sure if it’s because of the yoga I’ve been doing fairly regularly? Or genetics? Or because I feel like I’ve been IN IT for the last 10 years so maybe I’m almost done?? Whichever – I am SO GRATEFUL. Now if my period could just stop. Period. Stop. FOREVER. I will not miss it. Not one bit.
I do have SOME of the other symptoms associated with menopause but I assumed they could be attributed to age or MS or Pantene? Like – my hair is falling out so I told my hairstylist and she said it was because of the Pantene? and that it’s evil and should be stopped? Hmmmm…. Or, the mental confusion (did I mention that before? can’t remember). Isn’t that NORMAL in people over 50? I’m pretty sure that doesn’t stop when menopause does. Ditto weight gain and incontinence.
Anyway, I don’t mind waking up at 4:30 am, the cat doesn’t bother me, the husband isn’t walking in every 20 minutes to complain or ask me questions, the daughter isn’t calling, texting or facebooking me, the people upstairs aren’t thumping around (what CAN they be DOING up there??), and coughing man from the balcony over is still asleep too. It’s PEACEFUL. All I can hear is the ringing in my ears…hmmm….is that a menopause thing too?? Or maybe I need to book an appointment with the doctor…naaahhh…I can’t even hear it except at 4:30 am.
I have 80 properties saved to my favourites now and one of them is even for SALE! In the South of France (of course). Guess what I’m buying if I win the lottery? It’s called “Le Jardin” – could that BE more perfect??
I’ve discovered I have a thing for stone houses with blue shutters. Or white-washed houses with blue shutters. Or any house with anything blue – like a pool. Or the OCEAN! Yeah, that’s just about the biggest bluest thing there IS – other than the sky that is.
Well there’s NO cost for dreaming so here are a few places I’ve found on my “travels”. One day I will be visiting one or two or ALL of them!
It’s 4:44 in the am and I have been awake since 3:47. I almost NEVER wake up this early. I had a dream…but I can’t quite remember what it was about? Celery root soup I think. I’m going to make some today for lunch and the last time I made it, it was soooo good but I can’t remember the recipe I used?? Sigh. Yes. This it the profound thing that is waking me up in the middle of the night. Celery root soup.
Need to go back to sleep – playing Scrabble with my sis-in-law today. She’ll be happy if I DON’T go back to sleep because she knows it gives her the advantage. We’re competitive Scrabble bitches you know. But we’re old school. Words like “za” – for pizza because everyone runs around calling it “za”?? “So hey – let’s get some “za” tonight!” – do not exist in our game. Nor do ae, aa, and oe (they don’t even have consonants!!), and my personal favourite – “jo” for a cup of coffee (which could also be “joe”). These are just blatant ways to score big points with NO effort on the part of your brain. So, when did Scrabble change the rules? I did not get that memo. On the back of MY box it says that abbreviations and slang are not allowed – even though, for some bizarre reason, these words are in the official Scrabble dictionary and all the “professional” Scrabble players use them.
Oh boy. When all I have to worry about is celery root soup and Scrabble rules I either have a really great life or I need to GET one!!
My room, which happens to be the master bedroom in the condo because there is a space in it for my art desk, is now my studio. I write and draw in my bed (with coloured pens of course), I make collages and paint on my art desk and sometimes, I work on the floor. I’m filling up a bunch of notebooks with words words words – whatever comes into my head or stuff I hear about and want to remember (and the book which is really actually being written), I’m surrounded by a gazillion art supplies, I’m working on 2 art journals, and using 2 computers to write my blogs. Why 2? I use my netbook to write my blogs but I have to download photos to my old molasses-slow computer because for some reason?? they won’t download onto the netbook. (Did I mention I wanted a Mac??)
I’ve hung up twinkle lights in the window because they inspire me to think magical thoughts. (And no, I’m not smoking the funny stuff while thinking the magical thoughts.) I have a “A Wild Wacky Women Lives Here” calendar by Suzi Toronto on my wall – I love Suzi Toronto. (Thanks so much Lorna for giving me that first calendar.) I’ve had one of her calendars on my wall for 3 years now. I like to work with either the Spa music channel or the food channel on in the background or sing along (badly) to my i-Pod. It makes me extra-specially HAPPY to play in my studio.
In the mornings, I’ve been rolling out my yoga mat and turning on Padma Yoga – Blissful Living. She always focuses on a Sanskrit word in every class. Today’s word was: Aditi – which means boundless. I want a Sanskrit tattoo of this word on my wrist where I can see it ALWAYS. It means living with complete and utter freedom. No boundaries. No limits. What a concept! Then I meditate – I’m up to 15 minutes without twitching with impatience to get ON with things. You know, those million IMPORTANT things I have to do. Check e-mail, answer e-mails, write e-mails, check Facebook – talk to Emma, check my message board, write some, play in my journal, maybe meet someone for breakfast, coffee, or lunch. Nap. Repeat.
Yep, that’s my day. Hey, there’s cleaning and laundry and cooking and shopping in there too!!