I'm back...but I don't know for how long...

Happy New Year to you all! For some unknown reasons I cannot access my comments today or comment myself on my comments…Never mind. I haven’t been here for quite a long time. For the ones who care, I apologize. My Christmas time was not particularly eventful. I was rather upset because my parents did not come over to us and even more upset because I did not go to Italy. Never again. At least at Christmas, I want to be with the people I love, not here in the U.K. watching a dire Christmas TV. With the exception of Dowton Abbey, of course. And after that, the work started to pile up and the end of year’s accounts glooming. That's why I'm here today. Rather rambling about nothing and trying to get over a so-called writer's block than finishing my end of year's accounts!

I’ve just mentioned ‘writer’s block’ but I don’t know why. I’m not a writer and I’m not really blocked, I just don’t know what to write anymore. I'm not particularly witty (and I'm not fishing for compliments by the way!) like many of the fellow bloggers I usually read. Who on earth could be interested in my book or film reviews? You can read much more interesting (and better written) ones on the Net or in the hundreds of magazines and newspapers around…I could not host a photo blog, as my only means of taking photos is a medieval (brick) camera phone…Yes, I’m a mother but I’ve got enough problems with my kids without wanting to share them with my fellow mummy bloggers! Who wants to be reminded of what’s wrong with a spotty teenager after all!

Not to mention my fashion sense. Although I like clothes etc. thinking about my very imminent tax bill kills any temptation of going shopping (not even tackling the sales) and my already depleted wardrobe is constantly raided by my almost-teenage daughter. (FYI, I'm not that little, it's my daughter who's very tall!) What else is then left to me to write about? Just rambling and I’ve already done too much of it today. That’s why I might or I might not come back here. We’ll see. Ciaoooo!

Merry Christmas!

Silent Sunday

Para- Para- Paradise ...

For whom the bell tolls...

No man is an island,

Entire of itself.

Each is a piece of the continent,

A part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea,

Europe is the less.

As well as if a promontory were.

As well as if a manor of thine own

Or of thine friend's were.

Each man's death diminishes me,

For I am involved in mankind.

Therefore, send not to know

For whom the bell tolls,

It tolls for thee.

(John Dunne)

To my dear uncle who left us today. Our world won't be the same without you.

Twenty Years Without Freddie

It has already been twenty years. Twenty years since Freddie died. Twenty years without him just trying to imagine what that great singer and composer could have still composed and sung. I saw them at the MTV Europe Music Awards, all that remains of the Queen, and listened to Adam Lambert performing Freddie’s classic hits "Thes Sow Must Go On", "We Will Rock You" and "We Are The Champions". He was brave and courageous. But when you listen to a good singer, you also realize who is really the best.

What consoles me about Freddie is that he was loved almost immediately and a lot. And he is still loved and will always be. No artist will ever be so memorable as Freddie Mercury with the Queen. Theirs was the first music video in history, Bohemian Rhapsody.Theirs was the most memorable performance at Live Aid.Theirs was the most memorable and irreverent closing act ever at a concert: Freddie with his red cape while the band played "God Save the Queen".

Midnight in Paris

A lot of us go about our lives wishing that things were different. Many people become so used to the lives they are leading that they end up being easily bored after a while and dream of living in the past, especially since the world seems to be getting worse and worse. 'Midnight in Paris' -written and directed by Woody Allen - deals with themes of nostalgia and what makes us want more out of life. Woody Allen opens the film with beautiful shots of Paris, showing us that this is a place we should be if we're not already there. Paris is more than a great holiday spot, it's an escape from the world and is a nice, classy environment where very little goes wrong.

As per his usual, Woody Allen provides one more couple at the apex of marriage and finds conflict in that universal clash between security and passion. Hollywood screenwriter and wannabe novel writer Gil Pender (Owen Wilson) with his fiancée Inez (Rachel McAdams) have accompanied her parents to Paris and the excursion shows up their differences in a most prickly manner. She's all about shopping for expensive items, while he wants to take midnight walks in the rain. Indeed, he loves Paris so much he wants to move there, an idea she rejects like he's completely crazy. Meanwhile, she becomes impressed by a conceited, know-it-all professor (Martin Sheen), who precludes every pontification with "if I'm not mistaken," the satire being that his enlightenments are usually untrue. One evening at midnight, dismayed by the way his life is taking, Gil wanders off around Paris and ends up being lost. As he sits down to pull himself together, an antique car drives up and…

Revealing any more would be a cruel deprivation of your pleasure taken by the amazing grace of the film's fluid, elegant surprises. The crisp pace, firm cutting and old-fashioned invisible style leave you longing for more as the movie flies by in 94 minutes of enchanting pleasure, what they always meant when they used to say "movie magic”.

Enough to say that Gil learns a lot more about himself and what he can do to improve his writing and his life in the process of his nostalgic psychological journey.

The film is very charming and Woody Allen's writing is just as clever and witty as it's always been. This is definitely one of the best films he's made in a while, and it's a beautifully shot and unique film with strong performances. Owen Wilson impresses me and every minute movement reminds me of Woody Allen and in particular revokes one of his greatest achievements in Annie Hall. Although it gives the impression of a rather light film, it also makes us look inside ourselves and think about why we so often yearn to venture backwards instead of forwards.

Silent Sunday