More avoidance behaviour

I should be examining theses. Or washing dishes. Or reviewing the panto I just went to. (Two stars, but one does feel so mean, trashing a panto.) Or writing Part 3 of the Opera series, subtitled 'In Praise of Middle Age'.

And so I am, of course, doing the remaining fifteen questions of the meme instead.

1. What shirt are you wearing?

I am not in fact wearing a shirt, and so will seize this opportunity to describe my favourite shirt, a beautifully made oversized man's shirt with double-buttoned cuffs that I bought in Austria in 1997 and wear as an overshirt. It's made of hand-painted silk, of a colour best described as 'buttermilk with balls', a sort of creamy ochrey paleish goldy sort of colour. Some of the painted design is quite solid and in some places gives the effect of very fine embriodery or beads, done in four variations on the theme of gold plus some very fine black dots and lines here and there. The design is of beautifully executed swooping lines and swirls and shapes inspired by the paintings of Gustav Klimt, who is this dude here --


-- with the designs on the shirt clearly and closely inspired by paintings of his like this (actually this isn't a bad approximation of the colour, either):


2. What brand of shoes are you currently wearing?

Rockport.

3. Bright or Dark Room

I like soft, indirect, complicated light.

4. What do you think about the person who took this survey before you?

She was an American woman in the link I pinched from Susoz at Elsewhere's, I think. I liked her attitude to not having a watch.

5. Where is your nearest 7-11?

I have no idea. My 24/7 supplier of choice is a dirty great big servo up on Grand Junction Road where the B-doubles hang out. They have soft-toy Border Collies, fresh flowers, and several kinds of fast Asian food, among many, many other things.

6. Who told you he/she loved you last?

That would be the Bloke.

7. How many drugs have you done in the last three days?

I am not, here in my prudent middle years, a do-er of drugs. (And was very little of one even in my wild younger years, actually.) Alcohol, caffeine, codeine, ibuprofen and a couple of prescription things are pretty much my drugs of choice.

8. How many rolls of film do you need developed?

None, for a change.

9. What do you do when vending machines steal your money?

Swear like a trooper. My repertoire is limited but heartfelt.

10. Are you touchy feely?

I worry so much about being intrusive on personal space that any touchy-feely tendencies are more reactive than otherwise.

11. Name three things that you have on you at all times?

(1) A small black wallet with bank, credit and various ID and other cards.
(2) Cat hair.
(3) A hex.

12. What was the last thing you paid for with cash?

A newsagent's carry bag containing the day's papers (yes yes, I know, but I needed to sit in a cafe and do the Sudoku puzzles), the 2007 Fresh Produce Diary (I'm so glad they've revived this), a box of Smith Family fundraiser Christmas cards, and the Cats of the Greek Islands 2007 calendar, my opening salvo in the Christmas shopping wars. A cat calendar was a traditional gift from my departed Ma to my younger sister, and I have kept up the tradition. The minute I got it home, Poppet clawed the cellophane and chewed one of the corners, but my sister will think this is funny.

13. Does anything hurt on your body right now?

Yes, my feet are killing me. (See shoe brand.)

14. How much cash do you have on you?

About 70 cents at the moment, I think, not counting the piggy bank.

15. What's a word that rhymes with “DOOR?”

ABHOR or ADORE, depending on one's mood. Also GORE, WHORE, RAW, SORE, TORE, RAW, WITHDRAW and DEPLORE or, more happily, AWE, LORE, MORE, PAW and ENCORE (pronouned the French way with emphasis on the second syllable).