Wednesday, December 28, 2011

On Winter's Last Resort

Nero sincerely hopes that some of my fair readers find yourselves similarly engaged.



Sunday, December 25, 2011

Of Velvet Tropes and Xmas Tripping


May your day rock tradition, fair Nerophytes.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

On the 5 Days 'til Christmas and Other Musings Mostly

Fair Nerophytes, lo and behold us in the throes of the season with Nero similarly engaged in that school's-out-suckers limbo moms love to hate, which explains why a quietus has descended here on the Western Front. But don't start having withdrawal symptoms just yet, because Nero's been hard at work pondering, ruminating and pontificating, and here are a few of my latest off-the-cuff conclusions regarding this particular time of year, this bookend to cap off 2011.

First off, and beyond the shadow of a doubt, Nero has it
from a Higher Authority that panettone is the Devil's work. 

Secondly, I predict that lapel critters will one-up the lapdog in 2012. Just think of it, no nails to clip or groomer's tips, all the regal edge of pedigreed ownership minus the fuss and mess. In fact, Nero's devising a shock and awe, back-of-shoulder placement as she types. 

When oversized, underaged reindeer insist that you dance, you should do so. 

Nero's of a mind that everyone should have a strong, silent type sitting around. And as this blogger has a closeted yen for Asian chaps, I've been handing these Pu Yi trays out to any friend that'll have him.

And no, Nero's not kidding. Let's feather the Forbidden City, y'all.

When utter desperation strikes at dawn, drag the kiddos on a bike ride, preferably near a train track. That way you can claim to be waving to the Polar Express -- or throw yourself across the rails should the opportunity present itself.  


In a tangential follow-up to bullet point two, animalia's going nowhere fast folks. So keep the two-to-four-leggeds close at hand in whatever incarnation you see fit. 

2012 may just have to be the year, fair Nerophytes, the era of that great inferno -- the bonfire of the vanities. Because when Nero steps out in Saturday's best, only to see her clown suit lauded the morning after by that most erudite of fashion scribes, The Man Repeller, well a page in life has turned. Bah-humbug. Let the man-repelling begin, says I. 


Here, as evidence to the crime scene, an amiga and I ring in the season and repel all suitors and most species -- she in her pre-pre-Raphaelite chimera care of D&G and Nero in what appears to be a watered-down acid trip through Flora's headgear, brought to us by that dearly beloved European flower child, Zara.  


Nero would love to delight you with more seasonally appropriate, decor-related visual fodder. But alas we here at Ground Nero don't deck the halls, and knowing that my child has sat through no less than three of the aberrations above over the past four days, all while munching through massive quantities of popcorn and guzzling God-only-knows-what, has brought on a sort of pre-seasonal traumatic stress disorder. Thankfully Tintin debuts tomorrow. Long live Hergé. Gulp.



And so go things here in Nero's world for now. More regular postings will ensue when the new year rings its way in and inspiration comes rooting around for something more rarefied. But for now, dear readers, do sit tight, stay warm and delight in the very best of this mystical, magical season. 

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Of Soaking and Slowing

Take a breather, fair readers, for it is very nearly Friday.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Of Firsts and Lasts and Life in Motion


It doesn't take long in life -- a few years at most -- to swiftly realize that certain things will only happen once. One's first taste of snow, or running toes through sand, that hesitant new bite or last goodbye. And so we measure out our lives through firsts, through lasts and all the in-betweens that make up the joyous, the sacred and the mundane. It just so happens that today is our little guy's last day of being five. A triviality perhaps, after all we all survived it. But to stop and think, really ruminate on the fact that one is only five for a fleeting 365, is a thought that flabbergasts. And so they grow, stretching out of that cocoon, bending and adapting elastic -- unfurling past the shell that is our shadow -- allegro non troppo. So instead of focusing on tomorrow, that first day of being six, Nero prefers to bid a bittersweet goodbye to this one and only, this first and last, this magical, heart-rending, fanciful, terrifying, wondrous year of being five.  

Monday, December 12, 2011

Rustique C'est Chic



Thursday, December 8, 2011

Vous Permettez?

Here's to radical free association.




Welcome

Urban flâneuse, armchair observer, absent-minded scribbler, occasional epicure and carpool line cultural attaché, my nom de plume is Nero. Join me as I catalog a compilation of earthly delights and stuff that I dig. Alcira Molina-Ali

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