Tuesday, December 15, 2009

...Christmas Quotes

~Christmas is a time when you get homesick - even when you're home. -Carol Nelson


~Christmas, children, is not a date. It is a state of mind. -Mary Ellen Chase


~Even as an adult I find it difficult to sleep on Christmas Eve. Yuletide excitement is a potent caffeine, no matter your age. -Carrie Latet


~Christmas is for children. But it is for grown-ups too. Even if it is a headache, a chore, and nightmare, it is a period of necessary defrosting of chill and hide-bound hearts. -Lenora Mattingly Weber


~Nothing's as mean as giving a little child something useful for Christmas. -Kin Hubbard

Saturday, December 12, 2009

P.S.I Love You

...am not big on mush…and chick-lit has lost the sparkle which used to attract me like a magpie. Needless to say, 'P.S.I love You' wasn’t my cuppa tea…atleast not when it first released. But suddenly, courtesy the bout of melancholy that strikes me every December, I found myself sitting through the whole movie...loving Holly & Gerry’s scruffy lil apartment (which frankly was a kitschy dreamy delight!)...laughing at Denise’s ballsiness...feeling that dull-ache in my heart over Holly’s mourning...being ever so slightly charmed by Daniel’s lopsided self-deprecation and goin' crash*bam*thud over William’s rugged awesomeness. And yep…I even cried a wee (wee) bit over the mother-daughter bonding at the end.

I would watch the movie again just to soak in all the lovely scenes. The colours were bright and cheery (despite the subject) …and at times quite awe-inspiring (read: Ireland countryside). Yep…good stuff there.










Friday, December 11, 2009

Tripin 'into Christmas

...came across this cozy drawing on DeviantArt and thought that it was a nice way to get the holiday season started...

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Summer of Secrets ~ Rosie Rushton

Do you recall the gothic grandeur of Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey? Well, put Catherine Morland and the rest of the secretive brigade in the twenty-first century and you have ‘Summer of Secrets’.

Caitlin Morland is a talented young artist who craves excitement and a foothold in elite society. Blighted with a no-frills-and-fancies family, she is ecstatic when she wins an art scholarship to Mulberry Court School. She sheds her humdrum existence and makes glamorous friends in the influential Izzy Thorpe and the mysterious Summer Tilney.

Caught up in the wave of the jet-setters, Caitlin is soon off to Italy to spend the summer at the Tilney family home. An added bonus is Summer’s handsome brother, Ludo. But Italy turns out to be more than just lazy sunshine and shady olive-groves . Summer’s mother, Elena died two years back under mysterious circumstances. No one talks about it, and rumour has it that Sir Magnus Tilney (Summer’s father) and his live-in lady friend, Gabriella (who at one time was Elena’s close friend) are behind Elena’s death. Caitlin is soon drawn into the web of lies, deceit and secret assignations. Will her loyalty to Summer stay strong? Will her attraction for Ludo reach fruition? And… will she unmask the gory details?

Summer of Secrets is light, a tad predictable but enjoyable nevertheless. Caitlin is a refreshing teen-heroine. She is feisty, not riddled with self-doubt and her perceptive mind is constantly abuzz with ideas and solutions. Rosie Rushton has smoothly tugged the ensemble cast of Northanger Abbey into modern-day Italy and woven a tale that ironically enough is fresh in it’s treatment.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Mike Ming's Artwork on Dell Studio Laptops

Dell Studio's 15 and 17 laptops have been touched by the hand-of-Mike Ming. Adding a splash of individuality and a burst of colour, these designs are wickedd-d and very, very fresh



Monday, December 7, 2009

Cleopatra and Her Asp

History has never been this much fun! The Dead-Famous series is Dead-Funny and a totally enjoyable trip.

Cleopatra and Her Asp takes you down The Nile, without an oar but armed with enough facts, gossip and tales of sauciness to put any of the modern-day soap operas to shame. The life of the Queen-who-bathed-in-ass's-milk is succinctly put together in a collection of ‘secret’diary entries, newspaper (or tablet) scoops and whinging letters that travelled back and forth between the Egyptians and The Romans.

The illustrations are the icing on the cake…they are droll, replete with word-play and an absolute delight.

For all those who like their history put in a simple and interesting format (me!)…who love illustrations, especially the phased-out ones(me!)…and don’t mind the odd twisting of fact in non-fiction(yep, you guessed it-->me!)...this is a must read.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

SHEL SILVERSTEIN'S Poems

Shel Silverstein’s poems can transport you into a different world…a world which is not always sugar-coated…and more-often than not is quirky and down-right wicked. Here are a few of his gems:

ANTEATER
"A genuine anteater,"
The pet man told me dad.
Turned out, it was an aunt eater,
And now my uncle's mad!

ONE INCH TALL
If you were only one inch tall, you'd ride a worm to school.
The teardrop of a crying ant would be your swimming pool.
A crumb of cake would be a feast
And last you seven days at least,
A flea would be a frightening beast
If you were one inch tall.

If you were only one inch tall, you'd walk beneath the door,
And it would take about a month to get down to the store.
A bit of fluff would be your bed,
You'd swing upon a spider's thread,
And wear a thimble on your head
If you were one inch tall.

You'd surf across the kitchen sink upon a stick of gum.
You couldn't hug your mama, you'd just have to hug her thumb.
You'd run from people's feet in fright,
To move a pen would take all night,
(This poem took fourteen years to write--
'Cause I'm just one inch tall).


THE LITTLE BOY AND THE OLD MAN
Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy,
"it seems Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.