14 March - Winter Togs & Global Warming
The Sunday Times article on global warming really scared me! That’s it, all these years I’ve been postponing the trip to Antarctic on account of not having the necessary 10 grand it costs or the time to go and soon it won’t be there! I knew It! Bastards, the whole world. And this unseasonal warmth is just annoying. Have just put away winter coats (well saw people in shorts on Sunday so you know, am not rushing to wear vests and sandals but the coats are over. The thing is.. one is new, my grace Kelly style camel coloured beauty and it’s seen the streets of London v. rarely (thanks in part to succumbing to the lightness of feather jackets which seem better to go to work in as easier to take off on the tropical underground and that’s not just because I’m pre-menopausal. It’s hot down there.
So yeah, the coat… will it even come out at all next winter? Will there be a winter? And all those scarves, mufflers, mini furs and hats I love? Not to mention gloves, have not worn them this winter. I need to take me to the Whistler or the Glaciers in Chile to sport some winter togs. No wonder that idiot Spice (from now on Posh is Idiot Spice in this blog) gets photographed with her tummy out whilst she pretends to snowboard, it’s hot even up there wherever she was/is/goes.
This global warming is threatening my future plans. What about the vineyard in India that I’m launching/starting in the next 3 years? That subcontinent is shown on maps as being half eroded/submerged, so clearly I need to relocate my still un-business planned wine business to Norway. But I don’t want to live in Norway! Meantime, my proposed Summer break in Stromboli is not happening as the volcano there is spewing stuff out since February and I’m not that much of a risk taker, and they won’t even drop their ridiculous prices to entice visitors to brave the danger. And you saw what happened to the folks in Montserrat ten years ago or so. The plan B holiday should take place instead in Amalfi/Ravello, but perhaps my friends have failed to read that Vesuvius is due an eruption and it’s going to be bigger than the one which destroyed Pompeii. So where to go heh? I propose Sicily before I remember there’s a volcano there too, they’re everywhere, maybe Sardinia?
In the meantime, they’re shooting artificially made snow on the pistes in the Alps so there will be silence from me for the next few days whilst I contribute to destroying the planet and have my skiing in Cortina. It’s at times like this that having chosen not to have any kids makes me feel very smug. I don’t have to leave the planet for no progeny, so bring on the tropicalization and doom. I shall wear my coats in air-conditioned malls. Until it all ends like in 'Oryx and Craske' (Margaret Attwood). Ok I do apologise to my tiny goddaughters and to my friends' kids. I'll leave them my jewellery, they can trade if for a lift to a mountain when the oceans will be rising.
But I think we should still kill Donatella Versace and her backers for the new Versace hotel in Dubai which will have an air-conditioning system cooling the sand on their section of beach ‘so you don’t burn your toes’. What’s wrong with flip flops? I hope the visitors to that hotel get zapped out of existence by either a giant fireball or a tsunami wave… they’ll be happy they didn’t burn their toes and paid extra $$$$ for the privilege.
So yeah, the coat… will it even come out at all next winter? Will there be a winter? And all those scarves, mufflers, mini furs and hats I love? Not to mention gloves, have not worn them this winter. I need to take me to the Whistler or the Glaciers in Chile to sport some winter togs. No wonder that idiot Spice (from now on Posh is Idiot Spice in this blog) gets photographed with her tummy out whilst she pretends to snowboard, it’s hot even up there wherever she was/is/goes.
This global warming is threatening my future plans. What about the vineyard in India that I’m launching/starting in the next 3 years? That subcontinent is shown on maps as being half eroded/submerged, so clearly I need to relocate my still un-business planned wine business to Norway. But I don’t want to live in Norway! Meantime, my proposed Summer break in Stromboli is not happening as the volcano there is spewing stuff out since February and I’m not that much of a risk taker, and they won’t even drop their ridiculous prices to entice visitors to brave the danger. And you saw what happened to the folks in Montserrat ten years ago or so. The plan B holiday should take place instead in Amalfi/Ravello, but perhaps my friends have failed to read that Vesuvius is due an eruption and it’s going to be bigger than the one which destroyed Pompeii. So where to go heh? I propose Sicily before I remember there’s a volcano there too, they’re everywhere, maybe Sardinia?
In the meantime, they’re shooting artificially made snow on the pistes in the Alps so there will be silence from me for the next few days whilst I contribute to destroying the planet and have my skiing in Cortina. It’s at times like this that having chosen not to have any kids makes me feel very smug. I don’t have to leave the planet for no progeny, so bring on the tropicalization and doom. I shall wear my coats in air-conditioned malls. Until it all ends like in 'Oryx and Craske' (Margaret Attwood). Ok I do apologise to my tiny goddaughters and to my friends' kids. I'll leave them my jewellery, they can trade if for a lift to a mountain when the oceans will be rising.
But I think we should still kill Donatella Versace and her backers for the new Versace hotel in Dubai which will have an air-conditioning system cooling the sand on their section of beach ‘so you don’t burn your toes’. What’s wrong with flip flops? I hope the visitors to that hotel get zapped out of existence by either a giant fireball or a tsunami wave… they’ll be happy they didn’t burn their toes and paid extra $$$$ for the privilege.
posted by Lisa Taylor @ 5:46 AM
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