Horny & Confused

A few weeks ago in a very intellectual & heated debate with a friend about 'Angel Men' (don't ask!), I was asked the seemingly straightforward question, "So, what's your type?"

Now, I'm a girl that gets a lot of crushes but that question had me stumped.  You see these seemingly endless crushes of mine range from the beautiful to the downright freakish!  From Senior Citizens to frankly far too young for me to be contemplating.  The thing is I have no control over the direction of these crushes and no idea what is going to attract me.  It could be a voice, a smile, a cheeky glint in the eye, a personality, sense of humor or damn it, lets be honest, just a hot body.  Sometimes I'm left baffled at my own choices & find it almost impossible to defend these little infatuations when pushed.

My husband despairs at some of my more 'unusual' choices.  For him it's quite straightforward.  Jessica Alba.  There we go, that's his answer and it will continue to be his answer until she starts letting herself go and some new younger version comes along. I'm also reminded daily of his penchant for the the young actress by the lovely pictures that seem to have made a home for themselves on our computer (no, this little infatuation doesn't bother me, I'm far hotter than her*). 

For me however, it's not quite so simple.  Maybe I'm fickle or maybe just wired incorrectly, but just one man isn't going to cut it in my little warped world.  My seemingly endless list of past & present crushes include such randoms as, Geordie Johnson, Djimon Honsou, Jared Leto, Shere Khan, Travis McCoy, Stephen Fry, Lenny Kravitz & Zac Effron.

Having considered 'my type' for several weeks I can now confirm that I am absolutely no closer to solving the mystery of my hormones. 

So take heart men, it doesn't matter if you're a hot rocker, tattooed rapper, elderly national treasure, high school musical star, animated tiger or just an average male because some freak is probably scouring the net ogling your Facebook pic as we speak. 

*This particular portion of the post may contain information that's not entirely accurate.

Don't You Hate It When . . .

Picture the scene -

A quiet little reception, snow patrol playing softly in the background. An attractive man walks in & sits in the chair opposite you. You risk a glance from your paper & your eyes meet momentarily. A flirtatious smile flits across your lips as the music fades. It appears to be reciprocated & you blush gently. You both hold your gaze for a moment longer.

Suddenly, the music comes back on blasting the Divinyls 'I Touch Myself'. You quickly look back to your paper & remind yourself you're happily married anyway.

The End Of A Rather Entertaining Era

Well what can I say, I'm changing jobs once again. I know that's the life of a temp but still, it means a new set of colleagues & more frighteningly in this case, a headset! Still, I do seem to settle in quickly enough in most assignments & feel like an old hand in no time.

My latest role has had some fairly original moments that I feel my new role will possibly lack.

Highlights have included babysitting an egg wrapped in blankets of tissue, studying a shockingly wide assortment of stab wounds & trying to fathom how anyone could feel it's appropriate to get your boobs out in a reception area "for an airing"! Oh and add to that a robbery which resulted in having my finger prints taken by a genuine CSI agent (it said so on his fleece) & I think you will understand my hesitation in moving on.

So future friends & colleagues, you have a lot to live up to & if i start doing anything deemed 'inappropriate', go easy on me. It's been an interesting few months.

Women - A Functional & Ornamental Race

Recently in work I've had the very taxing role of scanning through women's magazines for inspirational pictures that could be given to a group of teenagers for a collage. Having been presented with copies of Red, More, Heat, Glamour etc I have to confess to finding this an almost impossible task.  

I don't normally read women's magazines so to be honest it's been a bit of an eye opener.  There's nothing interesting in these rags at all and the only thing inspiring is More's Position Of The Fortnight. 

These magazines coupled with a rather infuriating radio advert that opens with the sensitive line "Ladies, are you disappointed with your eyelashes?" have left me feeling rather deflated this week. 

Now this may come as a shock to some of you but as a woman I feel a certain obligation to spend several hours a week, moisturising, exfoliating, waxing, shaving, tweezing & lathering various parts of this body of mine.  This can be a chore at times but thankfully, for the most part it doesn't bother me too much.  Even with all that though, reading these magazines, coupled with the lovely radio advert i'm to believe that I'm not doing enough in my role as woman. 

My solution to this dilemma is simple - Fuck it all.  As a woman with a job and a social life I don't think I can commit anymore time to preening. I'm going to take an evening off from the regime of cleanse, tone & moisturise and devote my night to something I know will make me feel better, wine & cheesecake.

So gentlefolk, If my eyelashes happen to disappoint you in the morning, I really couldn't care less!

Inappropriate Conversation Starters

Now I love my parents. Even better still I feel I can be open and honest with them at all times. That being said, I do think my Mum needs to reconsider her opening line as she answered the phone to me this morning.

"Oh sorry, I was just messing around in the bedroom"

I'm hoping for a hello next time I call.

And The Award For Most Uninformed Traveller Goes To . . . The Lady In The Cocktail Dress With The Gun Holster Strapped To Her Thigh

The other day I overheard this staggering display of intelligence while at work:

Colleague 1:  I went shopping at the weekend and got all my clothes for Moscow.  I'm going to look like a yeti.  I don't know how those Russian women do it, they always look so glamorous

Colleague 2: Really?  To be honest I don't really know much about what they wear in Moscow

Colleague 1: Well nor do I really but you always see them in the James Bond movies and stuff

Lots of love from Ivana Humpalot x

This Is War . . . But Not As We Know It

Well after several listens to the third & much hyped 30 Seconds To Mars album, I feel that I am now finally in a position to comment on it.

It's not really very good.

Not the harshest criticism the band has received for it's latest release, i'm sure, but still I think it's a fair review.  It's not bad that's for sure, oh no I would never go that far. It's just not that good either. Despite the massive production on some tracks it still manages to feel like something produced by a band that got themselves a brand new Yamaha keyboard for Christmas.  A really good yamaha, top of the line and all that, not like the ones you and I would have been gifted, but still, the result is the same. 

What's worse though are the rather awful lyrics.  Now as a supposed EMO band I give them a pretty easy ride on the lyrics front anyway, but this is just appaling.  Cliche after cliche seeps from every pore of this album.  Here's an example.  Have a gander at the snappy opening to Search & Destroy:

"Grab your gun. Time to go to hell.  I'm no hero.  Guilty as charged.  Search & Destroy"

I think my point has been made!