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Showing posts with label Doc Martens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Doc Martens. Show all posts

Wednesday, 12 December 2012

Always classy...



So, I attended an interview for another job during work time because I could. I was told to dress corporate. I ain’t the corporate type but I did unearth my black jacket and managed to match my socks and, as close as possible, my earrings before wandering off to be interviewed. I interview very well. Talking, along with being able to bend over and place the palms of my hands on the ground, is one of my superpowers. I’m never lost for something to say. I was however lost trying to find the end of a thread – or a fred if I’m not paying attention and my inability to pronounce ‘th’ without finking er…thinking…takes over. Anyway, back to the the thread. I sat down and waited for the interviewer people to come in. It was then that I noticed I had a thread attached from my sleeve down to the buckle of my Doc Marten Mary Janes…okay –yes - not corporate but no one gets between me and my Docs. So this thread…how the hell did it latch on from sleeve to buckle? I have no idea. I pulled the thread. It was taut and didn't move. I tried to break it. Nuh-uh, not happening. I thought ‘well this is lovely. I’ll have to stand up and I’ll look like a Quasimodo hunched over to one side.’ I thought ‘take the jacket off, dummy.’ But then I remembered, ‘no, that will show your splendid arm tatts and this job specifically requested no visible tatts.’ Bugger. So I took the offending Mary Jane off and put it on my lap. This gave the thread some slack and I managed to break it. Problem was I managed to cut my finger on the nylon at the same time. So there I am, bleeding finger in mouth and a Doc in my lap. I’d want to employ me on interest level alone. Anyway, there was a knock on the door. I took my finger out of my mouth, dropped the shoe shoving my foot into it as they walked in the door. I wiped my bleeding finger on my black pants leg and shook their hands.

Did I get the job? Yes, I think I have it. Will I take it? No, not enough money for what they want done. Let’s face it…I’m a bleeding-thread-breaking-one-shoe- wearing-multi-tasker. I deserve big bucks, baby.  

Tuesday, 23 October 2012

Two things I learned today…



One…I’m a lot shorter than I think I am when I kick off my docs and walk around the office in my socks. That sudden loss of an inch surprised me. Typical it’s easier to lose it in height than in width. And two, after thirty odd years of not playing netball…back then I was a part of the mighty, albeit constantly losing, Snowflake team in primary school when I was 8  to 12 years old…that when faced with desperate strangers needing ring-in players or they forfeit, I can don the bib once more and be as pathetic now – albeit enthusiastic – as I was then. So, in reality, I’m shorter and I played netball - ipso facto I’m in my second childhood.      

Sunday, 17 April 2011

Go west, east, north and south grumpy, young man…




Back to the day job. I get to tell men all over Australia where to go. They hate the ‘call’ from me telling them I need this and that done and when will you be doing it pretty-please-eyelash-flutter-Doc-Martens-poised-to-stamp if the wrong answer or competing attitude bounces off mine. Do I enjoy the job? No, but it gives me a legitimate excuse to be a bossy boots...not that I need one...

Tuesday, 30 March 2010

Scary…not…


I was at the lights turning right onto Rode Road…yes, in Brisbane, we have a road called Rode (rodee)…anyway the car in front of me had a big sticker on the back windscreen – “Terminator on Board. Approach at your own risk.” It was written in fake dripping blood, gothic script. Yeah, uh huh…a canary yellow, beat up 1970’s era car that looked like an overgrown sewing machine on wheels. I was trembling in my Doc Martens. The light changed. I waited for the terminator to move – because I was terrified to approach too close – and the terminator stalled his car. I don’t know…the whole thing lost the glamour for me then…more so when he managed to get the car started and he waved back at me. But, attitude is everything I guess.

www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Thursday, 26 November 2009

Lots of stuff happening...


…none of it I can talk about. Bummer. So I leave you with my new pink Doc Martens…long story with these as well…seems to be the season for complicated stuff…

www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Tuesday, 17 November 2009

Good news…bad news…

Good news is my scarlet python Doc Martens arrived! They are most lovely. Bad news is it’s too frigging hot to wear them…bummer.

Good news is Flower Power by Sandra Cox is out today. Click on the cover to buy.

When you have only two pennies left in the world, buy a loaf of bread with one, and a lily with the other.—Chinese Proverb

Through the ages flowers have delighted and empowered us. Shakespeare talks about the sweet smell of roses. The Koran tells us that flowers feed the spirit, while Henry Beecher thought they were the sweetest things God ever made without a soul.

And who could forget the flower children of the sixties with their message of love and peace or the mysticism of oil and incense?

We pay tribute to births and deaths with sprays of these delicate beauties. A bride carries flowers down the aisle and, at the wedding reception, tosses the bouquet, a symbol of eternal love, for someone to catch.

We embroider them on our hand towels. We add them to our lotions and perfumes. We press a rose from a loved one between the pages of a book. We dry lavender from a garden so we’ll have its sweet scent in the dead of winter.

Flowers boost our emotions. Wouldn’t Mondays be easier to deal with if someone sent us a bright, scented floral bouquet to set on our desk?

Besides their intrinsic appeal, they are valued by the homeopathic community for their healing qualities. They are used for purification and rituals.

Myths and legends abound around the eternal flower.

In Flower Power, you will discover the wonders and uses of flowers such as gardens, aromatherapy, edibles, crafts, their personal language and the carnivores of the plant kingdom.

Bad news? Did I mention it’s too pukeably hot to wear my scarlet pythons?

www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Monday, 9 November 2009

Of love and scarlet pythons…


So, I was really stupid this year and fell in love with someone. Forehead slap - what a dumb arse...no really, I was. I roll my eyes at how pathetic I was over this man. I would never let any of my heroines be so dumb. Ah, if only you could write in the right man for you. Anyway it occurred to me today, as I was crawling around on my hands and knees tiling the bathroom floor, I don’t love him any more. Finally. No, I don’t think it was breathing in the tiling adhesive that made me come to that realization but it was a really nice moment when it occurred to me he no longer affects me as he once did. About bloody time. Jeez, love sucks doesn’t it? “Better to have loved and lost then never to have loved at all?” Hmm…I don’t think so…

….in light of this revelation I bought myself the boots above. I got them for a fantastic price on an eBay auction. I think scarlet python Doc Marten boots make everything seem right with the world.

www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Wednesday, 30 September 2009

Curses…foiled again…

I may be slightly feral at the moment - you know, in that I'll-rip-your-face-off-and-then-burst-into-tears-if-you-piss-me-off-kind-of-way. Lordy, it's exhausting and I feel after a zillion years of dealing with this pms and period crap, it should and must finish now. No, really, it should. Whom do I see about that? Who is the cosmic prick who decided women should deal with this pukeable thing every month for god knows how many damn years? Find him. Bring him to me. I want to speak to him - and it can only be a ‘him’ because no woman, no matter how catty, would inflict this on another woman. It would be wrong. Women have more sense therefore it was a male cosmic being. No, no point arguing with me at the moment as you would lose and I would probably do a victory dance and maybe do one of those throaty war cries. No, I don’t have to be rational. I don’t want to be…so there.

What would I say to the miserable cosmic bastard in charge of making women cursed every month? A lot and it wouldn’t be pleasant but I feel enough is enough. Yes, yes, I know biologically why it happens but I feel when you reach say 24 and if you don’t have a maternal bone in your body then a magic spell should be cast over you and all this suffering ends. See how infinitely logical that is? That will be my first command when I rule the world.

I want menopause. No really, I do. Yes, I realize it's a different degree of crapaciousness but I’m ready for the change. I want the change. I DEMAND THE CHANGE. Bring it on.

Did I mention I’m somewhat ratty at the moment? Did I also mention I can repeat myself as many times as I like due to said rattiness…evil hiss…smell of sulphur…narrowing of eyes…where’s my goddamn Mars bar? So, to make myself feel better and to help the world economy, I bought a pair of shoes. Doc Marten's in fact. I love Docs and bugger it, I deserved them…okay maybe not, but shut up. Besides it was those or more chocolate and I feel I was being very good as shoes you can put on and remove but chocolate sits on you hips and arse forever - and thank you very much to the cosmic, frigging – no doubt again male - being who made chocolate fattening. No really, what a swell guy you are….eye roll…sneer…poking my tongue out at you. Anyway I bought the shoes in the picture. They're called Diva shoes. They're perfect. They’re the sort of shoes Minnie Mouse would wear when she’s pms’ing…what is it with her and Mickey? What a little, high pitched twit he is. You think she would have worked out by now he is never going to marry her. I find him very suspect and that voice of his would just wear on my nerves. Minnie could do so much better than him. Do you think she stays with him from habit or is she at least using him for his money? And why does he always wear his pants right up under his armpits?

Anyway…maybe I digress…with these Docs I will be taller - and everyone knows when you’re taller you look thinner hence less reason to diet. Miracle shoes. Hallelujah and pass the chocolate cake.

www.amarindajones.com
www.amarindajones.blogspot.com
Be daring...read an Amarinda book

Friday, 16 May 2008

And if you love him
Oh, be proud of him
Cause after all he's just a man
Stand by your man
Give him two arms to cling to
And something warm to come to
when nights are cold and lonely

Stand by Your Man


I drove to work singing Tammy Wynette songs - primarily - Stand By Your Man - at the top of my lungs. I am an appalling singer but that does not stop me. All week I have been singing along to Pinks 'get-out-of-my-face-attitude-songs' because it has been a week like that. But today is Friday and it requires more dramatic loud to hell-with-everything-primarily-work songs. I think you'll agree Tammy had some dramatic songs. Dusty Springfield was good at that too. They're farewell, I'll-get-by-without-you-and-the-dog-just-leave-me-the-gin songs. Okay maybe not appropriate for some people but I like my Fridays dramatic because it's the start of the weekend and everything is possible.

I walked into work this morning and people were selling fund raising chocolates. Now I have never been able to walk past a chocolate in my life. It’s a genetic disorder which I have no intention of getting counseling for. I believe the eating of fund raising chockies to be a noble thing to do because the money is going to a good cause and therefore there is no fat transference to the eater of said charity chockie.

When women are depressed, they eat or go shopping. Men invade another country. It's a whole different way of thinking.”--Elayne Boosler quotes

So, as per the usual work day, best friend Ethel emailed me from her work place across town. Basically she said “Lucy”- only she calls me that and its started as a code when we were in trouble and it stuck. “Lucy, all men suck and are guided purely by their penises and how can you possibly write about romance when all men are stupid?” Okay then...sounds like her husband…er…Fred…is going to have a tense evening. I personally do not believe all men suck - yes, some do, others blow, while the rest are okay. They're just a different species to women and sometimes it's hard to remember that isn’t it? As for writing romance - well, the very essence of romance is that the male is not sucky. I tend to avoid the hero coming across like that. Oh sure, he'll make mistakes and come across as an all knowing pain in the bum but he's loveable in that charming, incorrigible way. I believe that's what people want to read - real but flawed characters who eventually get their acts together and admit they love each other. As for these sucky men at Ethel’s workplace with their penises that seem to be annoying her...what can I say? Don’t look. Don’t touch and try to avoid said suckiness. If men suck = annoy - what do they do that annoys you the most? You can tell me – no men read this blog.

Quirky is sexy, like scars or chipped teeth. I also like tattoos - they're rebellious.
Jennifer Aniston

I have this fascination with tattoos at the moment. I saw this guy today with the most amazing tatt. He let me have a closer look at it. He was very proud of it and it was a beauty. I won’t say where it was or what it looked like as I plan to write it into a book. Anyway, I was never a big fan of tattoos until recently when I wrote Last Man Standing. And, to be honest I really only think they look good on men. There is something that seems so masculine about them. I used to have this neighbor who was a Maori. He had a tattoo that covered his face as per his tradition. His wife told me it frightened a lot of people. I found it quite fascinating. Anyway I expect I'll snap out of that whole tatt phase soon or maybe not…I quite like men with an earring too…


Sexy as socks on a rooster” -- unknown

Want to get people’s attention? Wear bright yellow socks. I had them on today with my Doc Marten Mary Janes and people seem to be riveted by the black and yellow striped socks. I like striped socks. I have quite a collection. But I have found people often stare at them as you cross you legs and your pants leg rises up. To be honest I don’t stare at people’s socks. What's the fascination? Can someone tell me please...or alternatively what do you find yourself staring at and you can’t help yourself?

There's a new medical crisis. Doctors are reporting that many men are having allergic reactions to latex condoms. They say they cause severe swelling. So what's the problem?” -- Phyllis Diller


I always go for a walk in my lunch hour just to get out of the office environment. I can’t stand walking from my desk to the lunchroom and then back to my desk. My arse in big enough without adding the extra sitting into the equation. Anyway I was walking along and I came across an unopened pack of condoms – obviously fallen out of a pocket. Boy, someone is probably missing those. It always amuses me the brand name on condoms. Mt Olympus, Apollo, Humongous - ok, I may have made that last one up. But they are always big, beefy, powerful names. These were 'Trojans'. Yes, to be a Trojan is in theory to be strong and enduring -a nice image for any man. However I always think of Trojans allowing the Greeks into Troy in the wooden horse and what a mistake that was. Hmmm…not sure I could take a man with Trojan condoms seriously but when in Rome…or Troy....

"If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun."-- Katharine Hepburn
Oh dear…I caused an 'incident' today. I was trying to look at someone’s blog at work and a big red warning sign came up telling me I was naughty and the incident was recorded and something about death and destruction would descend upon me. Excellent…I have always said you cannot have too much death and destruction on a Friday arvo. Anyway, soon someone came out and pointed out the error of my ways. I nodded and tried to look appropriately sorry even thought I was contemplating what to eat for dinner at the same time they were warning me. So, apparently it is now on record that I am bad to the bone. Naturally I am terribly worried - not about the record thing - but I can't decide what to have for dinner...

Please take a squiz at Anny’s blog - she is always most enlightening. Then have a look at Kelly’s to get your perkiness quota filled.

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?

Tuesday, 26 February 2008

Tuesday Trivia...


Okay, so I don‘t think I’d make a very good junkie. Why? Well I have to use this syringe thing to suck up this certain amount of progesterone cream (hormone stuff) and spread it on a fleshy part of my body. Now I have fleshy parts to burn, real women do, but that’s not that the problem. For the life of me I cannot suck this cream up in the teeny weeny, frigging syringe that is supplied. I ask you, why give a clearly hormonal woman a challenge like this? Are they mad? So I made executive decision #12638 and chucked the syringe and I am now dabbing my finger in the jar to get the cream. Sshh…don’t tell anyone. Is it the right amount I am using? Who knows? I look at it this way, on the odd, very odd, occasion I cook something from scratch I never follow the recipe because to me it’s only a guideline. I am applying the same logic here. If it kills me, I’ll let you know.

Madnaduk invited me to join the Armitage Army – what is it? It’s a group that is dedicated to all things Richard Armitage. See picture to the right and check out my blog from a couple of days ago - or go to http://thearmitagearmy.co.uk/main/ Did I join? Hell yes, the man has the ability make even the strongest knees wobble.

Naming…

As a writer, I collect names – the odder the better. If I hear a strange name I instantly write it down because I like my characters to have unique names – that’s not to say every day
names are not perfectly good but I like odd. I want people to wonder how the hell did she come up with that name? Being a writer means you are nosy – okay, some purists won’t agree with that but that’s my opinion and I don’t shy from it, as you know. I think you have to be a good snoop to be a writer. Why? Because writers need to observe stuff around them. How can you relate to your readers if your words have no basis in reality? How many times have you read a book I thought – crikey that was boring…okay maybe you wouldn’t say crikey unless you were an Aussie but you know what I mean.

I also check with fellow authors/friends (parts of whose works in progress I am lucky enough to read before they gets published) to make sure I have not inadvertently nicked one of their character names. No it’s not against the rules. It’s more of a courtesy. Writer Anny Cook and I both came up with the name Zipporah and I noticed author Bronwyn Green http://bronwyngreenblog.blogspot.com/ and I have had characters with similar names. It happens. It’s not a hair pulling event, it’s more that we tend to think a like. Writers are not
drama queens - most of the time. I will myself admit to the odd dramatic stamping of feet but I ask you what are Doc Martens double strapped Mary Janes for if not to stomp?

So what’s in a name? Depends. It can make a character sound tough or exotic. Maybe the character is intriguing enough on their own that they don’t need an odd name. It depends on the writer. Sometimes an odd name is better than the plethora of Jakes and Lukes that are constantly found in the pages of romance books. I used Nick in Seducing Celestine and I agreed with my wise Editor it was a name that romantically was done to death yet I wanted a plain name to balance out Celestine. See? Writers do tend to spend time on names.

Speaking of great names….Dakota Rebel’s story 'Kit and Mouse' is part of Bound Brits a great new anthology out now from Total-E-Bound. Dakota kindly agreed, after my email barrage to her, to give me an excerpt for your reading pleasure. Remember it’s just a click on the cover to buy.

Kit and Mouse – by Dakota Rebel - the blurb

Kit is a vampire who had been planning on a quiet evening out at the local pub. But that plan becomes null when Mouse walks in. As soon as Kit meets him she knows that this quiet, shy man is not really what he seems. She instantly knows that she has to have him.
Mouse plays into her hands perfectly, agreeing to accompany her home. But Kit is in for quite a surprise when the nervous veneer fades and this mortal becomes the demanding and dominating man Kit never realised she had been needing.


Excerpt – warning contains adult content

He reached up to softly caress my cheek. I leaned into his palm but he moved it to wrap behind my neck. He grabbed a handful of my hair, snapping my head back and staring into my eyes.

“Are you going to be a good girl and do what you’re told tonight?”

“I’ll try.” It was barely a whisper, but he nodded.

Then his mouth was on mine, our teeth and tongues crashing violently together. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, to hold myself tighter against his body, but I hadn’t been given permission. So I stood with my hands clenched into fists at my side, waiting for his next command.

“Touch me,” he said against my lips.

Immediately, I ran my hands up his back and over his shoulders. He kissed me again, slightly softer but still full of passion and heat. His hand tightened in my hair and he pulled me back again.

“No biting, and you do what I tell you to do,” he said. “Do you want a safe word?”

“No,” I said quickly. Probably too quickly. I wasn’t really thinking about anything but fucking him at that point.

“Just in case,” he said with a small smile.

“Okay, you pick. I don’t care.” The words tumbled out of my mouth, still without any real thought attached to them.

He kissed my ear and inhaled deeply before whispering, “Peaches.”

Then his mouth covered mine again. I ran my hands up his neck and wound my fingers in his hair, not as tightly as he held mine, but enough that he knew they were there. He pulled away to look at me again.


“Can you let a man dominate you, Kit? How long has it been since you weren’t in charge?”

“Years. I don’t know how long exactly.”

“Can you do it? Will you do it for me?”

“Yes.”

“Where’s your bedroom?”

Anny has the continuing saga of dragon romance and sex on www.annycook.blogspot.comwhoa before you hare off over there to see how dragons have sex - I would suggest carefully – Kelly has dragons of a different kind on www.kkirch.blogspot.com – then check out http://sandracox.blogspot.com/ and have a knowing laugh at Murphy’s Law. Yes, how bossy am I? Go - seek -buy - read.

www.freewebs.com/amarindajones/
Go ahead: Live with abandon. Be outrageous at any age. What are you saving your best self for?