When I saw Julie Andrews on screen, walking the streets hungry, in the search for work, I smiled. The smile I get when I remember someone I like very much. Victor and Victoria came on late at night and I spent an hour sitting in the dark living room watching a film again, which I have seen numerous times already.
“You don’t know anyone at the party, so you don’t want to go. You don’t like cottage cheese, so you haven’t eaten it in years. This is your choice, of course, but don’t kid yourself, it‘s also THE FLINCH.
About ten, fifteen years ago, at a BBQ with lots of food and some alcohol, a friend of mine asked me if I would date -or sleep with a black man. I didn’t hesitate, answered quickly -and without thinking- “No, I would not date a black man or sleep with a black man.”
“I guess that means you are a racist,” he said and I didn’t know what to respond. My brain didn’t comprehend -neither did I. I had stepped into a trap and now I was stuck.
While we established who is not welcome in my workroom, and who I would not work for, how about I tell you who is welcome. I have some funny rules and regulations in place. Some have been planted in me by my Grandmother, others I only follow because of the fear of my Grandmother, who, if her wishes and beliefs came true, is enjoying eternity aka The afterlife sitting on a cloud watching me. Who also might have the capability to jump of her could anytime she wants to, to slap me silly. One can never know.
If you come across a Mosquito in the size of a helicopter, please, be so nice and kill it. It has been in our house and bit me about 250 times in under five minutes. It deserves the death penalty -no questions asked.