bottoms up

The city looking gorgeous under a blanket of snow is what we found after coming out of an all-day concert for little-known bands. Very strange this being at a gig marathon while there is light outside.

Beautiful but tricky snow. I ended up slipping on the snow/ice and landing on my derrière bike and all. Tail bone pain is not good, I am telling you. Clumsy ninja :)

the art of procrastination and massive cucurbits in the making

My middle name is Crastination, Pro Crastination. I like that. I read it somewhere a while ago and it stuck. (It's not mine, no credit taking when it's not due. Contrary to common belief, ninjas are honest and fair beings.)

Anyway, I shall not get into details (ninjas are also rather reserved) but it seems the more time I have, the less I achieve. I have been perfecting procrastination forever. I excelled at it at university, when I used to have chats with the Head of the Department about writer's block, Joseph Conrad, writing essays in English as a foreigner, whatever... My mates could not believe I managed to get an extension for every-single-essay I had to hand in. I always celebrated by going out and procrastinating some more. Of course.

Well, peeps, if you are reading, I am still crap or, rather, pretty good at it. So, without further ado, here is a procrastinating post on green stuff. See? I told you, anything but writing a report (or the three I am already behind with. Tra la la la la.) Oh yeah, I also bought a beautiful old wardrobe and have decided to organise the house (it used to be redecorating my student room back then, it is redecorating my whole apartment right now.) Same old pattern. Pathetic and weak. Boo hoo.

Right, self-therapy session over (sorry, needed to, I'll go back to jolly superficial now), quickly onto green stuff and then work. Yay... not. (Or in true, if a tad trite, Conradian fashion: The horror, the horror... not that I exaggerate or anything.)

On another note, I am having a sort of green boo-boo moment. 

I have realised the whole growing cucumbers on the balcony may not actually be such a good idea. My mum told me on the phone last week and someone had already mentioned it before... Those babies crawl on the ground and grow in vines. I knew that (didn't I?) So, what the ding dong (ramalamadingdong) was I thinking of? Oh well... 

First stop is re-potting the cukes and the radishes (this weekend). But, to make matters more interesting, I have also heard from friends -the ones who gave me the tomato plant last year, have a garden and seem to know what they are doing, that I have been a crazed carried-away green ninja and should NOT have just used up all the seeds in one go. I have to replant them individually now, sprout by sprout, and that's going to be a pain and a half.

Oops. Again. I hope I don't kill too many.

Here they are. Pics starting last week. Last one taken just now and those cucurbits are pressing on now. Winning hands down.

I have now added strawberries to the lot (mini clay pot in the middle.) If I'm starting a whole bleeding allotment on the balcony, I might as well do it properly and make the bugger collapse. Ha.

 

p.s. For some serious green-fingered action and already edible radishes, have a look at this professional outdoorsy one doing her thing.

the woody blues

Late and knackered. Story of my life lately.

However, I am here and in good spirits. That is the other side of the coin, in the story of my life lately. At least we are trying.

Lots of woody action taking place on the canal a couple of weeks ago. Unfortunately, all the wood came from the trees being chopped off during works on the street. 

Totally heart-breaking seeing them go but, appartently, they were ill and some young ones will be planted to replace them.

Bring on the young trees and that bloody spring, then. It is raining cats and dogs out there right now.

So. Wood. That was corner view's theme this week. cv over here.

pondering...

... about what to post on the concept of "pondering", I stumbled across this video yesterday evening.

It made me ponder AND wonder what those nutters where all doing there at the same time.

You just have to love Prince, don't you? Totally bonkers but extremely talented.

I was a massive fan in the late 1980's. Ninja Teenage Love (shocking revelation, not.)

Not much pondering back then, just jumping into things head first. The way it should be.

Viva cv temporarily hosted by miss t.

Note to the Netherlands Crew. I'm planning on going down to the DDW in Eindhoven tomorrow (Thursday 28th.)
Should you happen to be around, just drop me a line. It'd be fab to grab a coffee. Bit last minute, I know. How very ninja of me...

wafer-thin mint (and lazy cv)

Before the hols, after trying (to no avail) to get through to the Embassy of Ukraine, I just decided to go and check their website. I found the English button (Cyrillic is very pretty but of no much use to me), and my eyes immediately moved towards the last quote from an article on Kiev "As Warm Chestnuts Embrace you…" Loved it

I decided to machine-translate the original Cyrillic sentence again (just for kicks, I had time, too much of it.) What I got this time round was "Once in Brown Embrace, Let Yourself..." I pissed myself laughing and gave up. The latter was by no means as poetic as the former but we were entering seriously wrong innuendo territory. I thought, Ukraine, here we come.

 

 

The above was our very first contact with Ukrainian English. On the plane on our way to Kiev. How wonderful is that.

Later on we came across the correct but much less amusing version of the peppermint-flavoured toothpick.

(P.S. This is not meant as a mockery against anyone or anywhere in particular. 
I just love my c.k. watt-type boo boos. I also just read cv's theme this week is "humour" (a bit erratic on the old cv, as you know), so hey, click on that last link, if you wish.)

green fingers... yup. from squashing bloody caterpillars, like.

I really keep trying my best at this greenery-growing-on-the-balcony-lark. But the bloody evil green caterpillars keep coming back (and I have moved house) to eat up my bloody plants. Bloody hell, I had to get rid of my basil, chives, parsley and lavender yesterday. For chrissake, I'm not the best of urban gardeners as it is. This is not helping.

So, apart from crunching (bollocks) and unsuccessfully (bollocks) trying to replant the broken (bollocks) branch where one tiny little cherry tom was starting to appear (double bollocks), I reckon I've saved the tomato plant.

It was given to me about two weeks ago. This is me carrying it on the bike basket that night.
Quality photography. Warning: It may cause drowsiness.

I was in motion, so was the bike and there was no light.
However, it is much better than the first one I tried to take. Look:

Wey hey. How pretty is that! My bike light going all sparkle mad.

This is what one end of the balcony looked like last week (I wanted to show the extremely impressive growth of above-pictured plant to its generous previous owners.)

Anyway, the tomato plant is a good 10 cm. higher now (that's about 4" for you non-metric nutters) minus one branch sporting one minute tomatito plus a bunch of squiggly green bastard caterpillars.

Bastard things, trying to charm me with their circus flourishes and curlicues. They had to go. Unfortunately all my herbs had to go with them. Bastards.

Well, I'm happy the olive tree is going strong and so is the black-eyed Susan vine. I also planted some random flowers that were supposed to be coming out by now, but haven't seen much colourful progress on those yet. Oh well... End of boring green post. Nearly.

I reckon next time I see caterpillars I'm going to try and pimp them just like Antonia does her snails (always in a responsible and well-informed manner, bien sur.) Any ideas? Aimee? Jen? You wouldn't happen to have any random tutorials on the subject kicking about, would you?

You say tomato, I say tomato.

of birds, bees, bigots, hypocrisy and go-go dancing in vanilla-scented leather whilst shaving one's bits in a role-play spanking sort of activity in London and Madrid

Okay, I was reading about the British General Election on the The Independent this morning when came across an article titled Anti-gay Baptist minister took male prostitute on holiday (I know.)

Well, the title speaks for itself. However, what I wasn't expecting was for the piece to briefly have me in stitches. This next bit is what did it:

"Rekers also neglected to explain what had drawn him to Lucien, who has long blond hair and appears topless in photographs on the website. Perhaps it was the young man's interesting range of hobbies, which are listed as: "vanilla, leather, shaving, spanking, role-play and go-go dancing"."

The whole thing reeks of stupid surrealism if you ask me (but you should never ask me 'cos I may tell you what I think.)

Everybody knows any bigoted individual/group/institution on an earnest evangelical mission (opinion-wise, not necessarily religious) to condemn and try to squash perfectly acceptable ideas, lifestyles or just plain human rights, has a dark, hidden, messed-up agenda. So I won't even get into that (this is already getting far too serious for la ninja as it is, innit?)
I just really dig how the journalist phrased that paragraph "vanilla, leather, shaving, spanking, role-play and go-go dancing". Irony (obviously linked to wit, humour and intelligence) is often a powerful weapon against bigotry.

Right, back to less messed-up affairs, like... politics? Ahem.

Anyway... Hello, long time no ninja.

All is well here (should anyone be wondering/interested), just got my mind on other things these days but I can feel a full nonsense-ninja recovery coming up... Yay. Watch this space.

theory of relativity

Someone find me a higher gravitational field as time goes slower up there (or so they say.)

That sitting atop my diary is something the hairdresser plucked from my head yesterday afternoon (biatch.)
The first of its kind and colour I've ever seen up there (well, she's the one who actually saw it; I was happily oblivious about it until then.)
So there you have it. New era. Downhill from here. It's a fact.

On a similar note, I watched Chris Rock's Good Hair (not that it is actually his, but you know what I mean) yesterday evening. There is some seriously scary stuff going on there.
So, after all, one grey hair, pittance. But, then again, and quoting Mr. Ice-T on the film "(...) trust me, if a woman ain't happy with herself, she ain't going to bring nothing but pain to every-fucking-body around her." Ha.

wtf revisited

Exactly a year ago (nearly to the day; I found the below waiting for me two w-ends ago) I wrote this here post and, as I cannot be arsed to re-write it this year, please just click on the link and read for yourselves.

This time the culprits are not L & A, but C & D (and a very cute baby boy.) Also, the Xssy card (funny Purple Ronnie one, btw) did not make it here late all the way from Sheffers, it was York this time. But hey, same meat, different gravy, if you ask me. And... still Yorkshire, now I think of it.

Credit crunch, credit smunch. Still.

On another note, I got fan-fucking-tastic mail all the way from Kansas today. More soon. Watch this space.

whininja... apparently

I've been told I'm being a bit of a whine lately and, even though that's bloody hard to hear (let alone accept and admit) I've thought about it and it's true. Yes, stress seems to be getting the best of me at times and I don't like it. Apologies to those stuck under my grey cloud.

Reasons why are irrelevant, really. The point is I'm stopping being a misery. Now.
Fingers and toes crossed. Everyone? Ta.


Oh yeah, I cannot really draw but that's me up there. Being stressful. Pulling my hair in a stressful manner (funny arms, I know. I've never been able to draw arms, even at primary school I always had to re-draw all my arms.)
However, I thought I'd put into practice what a certain doodley missy told me about how it is much safer to have things on paper rather than causing havoc inside your head. So there. I thought I'd quickly make a bad self-portrait (to have a look at every time I start being a whinge again). It will, at least, give me laugh seeing those deformed arms.


Also, it reminded me of some beautiful prints by Blanca Gómez (I particularly like her clouds.)
Only in those the ladeez are smiling under the rain. Let's try and aim at that too. Okay, (whi)ninja?
¡Al mal tiempo, buena cara! (And it is pissing it down out there right now. With an effing passion) ;)

UPDATE: To keep my spirits up, it could probably be an idea to use the below too! ;)

happiness hat from Lauren McCarthy on Vimeo.

I hate...

...it when I'm crap at tech stuff!

does anyone know how I can properly publish an old post

retrieved from the drafts so that it shows on the reader?

my previous post (c.k. watt) did not appear in google reader.

I think I messed up the date/time and cannot find solutions online.

much appreciated. tech (not!) ninja

a-ranting & a-moaning
-an increasingly random series that will captivate the hearts of young and old alike-

bloody 'ell, cv time? again? really?

Right, I'm a bit behind (as you may have gathered by the title), have been side-tracked by stuff and things plus I don't travel by car often. In a nutshell, this week's cv: so far so crap.

Plan was (soooo many good plans, such little resolution) posting some bicycle pics -which I may actually still do some time soon as I have bucket loads of them taken with my faithful little telephone. However, to avoid being a party pooper and to keep up with the spirit of cv, here's some random fuzzy pics taken a while ago, which I find really pretty in their wooziness.

These were taken this winter, inside a tunnel (I seem to recall), somewhere in France on the way to the Alps.

These next two are taken from a tuk-tuk in Bangkok, about two years ago, in the midst of a manic and unexpected shower. It was pissing down with rain with a passion. Pretty impressive it was.

Not a view of my corner of the world, but hey, it'll have to do this time.
For more "out of the car window", please check spain daily out.


* Also, I'm not going to have time to do the rounds until later in the week (if ever) but will try to fit that in somehow some time.

¿qué?

Right, this first one is basically a question for those familiar with Spanish cold meats and cheeses (random, I know), as I'm not sure my confusion/flabbergastedness/outrage is going to mean much to anyone else. (I'm actually rather sure you won't be giving a fig about it so... Well. Tough. Sorry.)

All right, the below fuet made its way to the house the other day and I was dead chuffed when I found it. Then I read the label:

¿Qué? Since when can one buy fuet (a typical Catalan sausage) stuffed (stuffed? injected with? flavoured? seasoned?) with queso cabrales (a typical Asturian blue cheese) curado en el Pirineo (matured in the Pyrenees)?
Where exactly in the Pyrenees? How did the cheese get there? I want to go and check that particular place out! (Plan was adding a map but it's late, I'm tired, cannot be arsed and probably no-one cares but me).
Who came up with this? When? Why? Is this normal? Is everyone back home eating this sort of aberration?
I.need.answers.
Anyway and swiftly moving on, we now find this other fellow living in my kitchen (pictured above).
I see a whimsical little headband-wearing orange triangular creature of sorts who seems to be nailing some edible sand/blob/play doh down with force and determination while swearing in pretty doodles to himself (?).
Again: ¿Qué?
Cute as the package is, I'm not sure what to do with it. Should I be brave enough to try it. Anyone?
Once more: I.need.answers.

Muchas gracias. Arigatou gozaimasu.

righting a wrong

It has been brought to my attention that what was shown on this here post was not accurate. It seems someone knocked the composition while cleaning (which clearly rules me out, then) and it should have looked like this: the Pedrera perfectly perched atop the Sagrada Familia.

But of course. How very silly of me.

All right, now it's when I think I can hear Gaudí turning in his grave.

I hate...

...buggering my laptop and being too scared
of using boy's in case my reverse
Midas condition buggers this one too!

(so I'll go now before it's too late, I'll be back soon, I hope)

a-ranting & a-moaning
-a weekly-ish series that will captivate the hearts of young and old alike-

self-topping fluffy 'uns

Even though I realise I'm very very late in discovering this, I have only just done recently. However, upon such a delightful find, I immediately got a copy of the first book as a present for a friend on his birthday. I hope he likes it as I'm aware this may not be everyone's cup of tea. Definitely mine.
The very original trials and tribulations of these self-destructive bunnies really make me giggle. Have to check out Mr. Riley's other work 'cos this is dead promising.

The Book of Bunny Suicides: Little Fluffy Rabbits Who Just Don't Want To Live Any More by Andy Riley

catch, catch, catch...

This is where I was last week. Hang on, last week? More like two weeks ago; time bloody flies (whether you're having fun or not), innit?

During my visit home, I spent one whole day with one of my oldest friends catching up and catching some needed sun and fresh air. We caught a train and went on a day trip to Sitges, where I had not been in ages and which remains as gorgeous as always (the old town, that is).
Isn't that the tallest palm tree you've seen in ages, by the way?

The piccies speak for themselves, it was a beautiful day, just what the doctor ordered.

Speaking of which, I think I'm catching a nasty cold. I've been on and off under the weather (literally and figuratively) since I came back and I'm afraid it may be finally catching up with me. Oh well, that must be the catch: not being ready for it and getting a tad poorly back up North under changing weather and force n winds after a relaxing break.

Another couple of pictures that speak for themselves (just a few hours difference between the two images). How to catch a cold:

Atchoo!

Fred Ott's Sneeze (film by William K.L. Dickson)
The Edison Kinetoscopic Record for a Sneeze

losing a button: a basket case & lots of flowers

Boo hoo! I lost the middle button of my left shoe yesterday.

I know it happened during my cycle to work in the morning. I decided not to use my new bike basket (it makes the bike rattle and I was told this weekend that cycling like that was a bit silly and dangerous, oops!). Therefore, I kept my (too heavy) bag hanging from the left handlebar. I'm sure that's what knocked the button off the shoe as I remember the bag hitting me a couple of times.

On my way back home I kept my eyes peeled in a vain attempt to spot it on the road somewhere (nine hours later, wishful bloody thinking!) or somewhere amidst the grass in the park. I am a fool, I know, but stranger things have happened.

Well, this may just be the perfect opportunity to put into practice my soon-to-be-acquired sewing skills. My born-organiser-good-at-bringing-people-together friend, Ms. Thang M, has convinced a bunch of us to enrol in an all-day sewing workshop next month. I'd been thinking about doing something on that line myself forever so I jumped at the (perfect) chance.

I have attempted the odd stint at needle holding in the past (mainly brooches and the odd accessory on a top) but I tend to be slothful by nature so this will give me the much needed kick on the old butt to get going.

Every cloud has a silver lining, right? New buttons on not-so-new (and a bit knackered but much loved) shoes is as good a start as any!

And now for something completely different. These are the beautiful flowers we got our friends M & W, who had us over for dinner on Saturday. I also got myself some (even though I already had some red tulips at home) as they were gorgeous. Couldn't resist them (not only am I slothful, but also envious by nature).

We were extremely late (and I don't mean fashionably late, I mean nearing rude late...) but we had pretty flowers with us... af if!

And here's a quick snap (mobile photo in more than one way) of the two-wheeled flower bearer.

bad polka dot, bad!

Bag Girl Polka Dot is the real title this pretty print goes by. I immediately took to it visually but it really made me giggle too, not only due to its delightful quirkiness but basically 'cos I misread the title. (I hope the artist doesn't mind... As if anyone ever read this! Ha!)

Polka Dot is the nickname of sorts (or rather, battle name) my mate
E got after a rather interesting (for lack of a better word) and rascally night in London a couple of years ago. It started both because she was wearing a fab red & white polka dot dress but also because she had a namesake in our little gang and no-one knew which E we were referring to. (To be perfectly honest, at one point none of us really knew what in sweet baby jay jay's name we were talking about, let alone whom we were talking to).

The thing is that when I first saw the print this morning I mistakenly read Bad Girl Polka Dot (dyslexia? Freudian slip of da mind?) and immediately thought of sending it to E. Bad Polka Dot. Bad, very bad girl!!

Ai, nena, ho he pogut evitar. M'ha fet somriure aquest matí i ho havia de posar aquí! ; ) Potser una idea pel teu cumple?

la petite (pissed off) botaniste

Yesterday spring really seemed to have sprung. I noticed the second batch of bulbs I had planted back in November was coming out (one big pot, three sorts of bulb, three layers, three depths). They are bloody tiny but still... Result!!!

Suddenly, I remembered about the herbs I was given in a bar one night during the Xmas hols back home... yup! It's actually much less dodgy than it sounds. Some bizarre promotion was going on at 3am: by drinking a particular brand of gin you got one of this ready-to-grow-herbs-in-a-sachet. I am not a gin drinker but, somehow, ended up taking two of these packs home even though I spent all night drinking caipiroscas... Perhaps that was precisely the reason! ; ) Anyway, it had totally slipped my mind that I had chucked them in an empty plant pot in the balcony until yesterday. I cannot stress this enough but it really looked like spring was here so, emboldened as I was by the apparent bulb success, I decided to put my green fingers on once more and give them a go. (Not that it is really that hard: you simply cut the top off, throw the seeds in, cover, water them and ta-da! But hey, still requires an effort).

However, I'm not sure the gale force winds whipping through the house as I type, together with the hail aggressively pattering on the window panes, are a good sign. Winter's back with a passion (the bastard!) but I really really hope it's not taking my (very very first) mini envelope herb garden away. Come on, I'm really trying to sort that balcony out! Working my gardening gloves off here!!!