Day 480: Bumfrang

Aaah, yesterday, I remembered the thing that had given me such pleasure in Snoopers' Paradise last week. It was the phrase 'How do you like them apples?'. It was written beautifully on a card next to some apple-shaped earrings. The last time I heard that phrase used (and the first) was when I was working on the Indiana Jones DVD game for Hasbro (so in 2005, most likely). We took the board game bit in to play with the developers at The Pavement. The main guy was quietly, boldly, strangely very attractive (also very married, so it was only observational). We played the game. He won, and as he slammed his mover onto the final space, he cried 'How do you like THEM apples?' with such unreserved glee and self-satisfaction that even though I had no idea what he was talking about, it was a deeply pleasing experience. 

It made me remember one of the things I loved about that job - that its purpose (for me) was, fundamentally, to create moments like that in as many lives as possible. I'm so glad to have got out while that was still mostly true. Whether it's subjectively true for some people, still, if I was still there, it wouldn't be for me.

Bumfrang!

Speaking of such pleasing things, how do you like today's new word: bumfrang. I don't know what that means, either. I saw it on lovely Gaba's cafe facebook site. I think it's a film or a book or something. Bumfrang3.* A sequel? Hmmm. Obviously, it's mostly funny because it's got the word 'bum' in it. That's a given. 'Frang' is nice too, though. I like its fat, bung ng - an e would spoil it entirely and make it a little bit try-hard. The number is a tantalising mystery. I can ask Gaba what it means, or I can enjoy my own ignorance, allowing me simply to revel in the shape of the word in my mouth and the vague textures it conjures (definitely rubbery, definitely rounded). 

And this apple? I think I like it.

Loving my pants. I have replaced some of my tired (but beloved) underwear with new. The pleasure of wearing a fresh, beautifully-fitting bra and matching knickers is immense. One of the simplest gifts, for nobody but me (and you, of course, now I've decided to share it, but still indirectly - the direct pleasure of it is mine alone). The fabric is soft.  The colours too. I feel lucky (not in a 'get lucky' way - mostly, when I feel lucky in that way, I'm very wrong about it. It's a less fathomable science, to me). Lucky to be able to and not to have to take such things for granted. If you can glean contentment from a pair of pants and a lacy bra, I say go for it. 

Errmm. I seem to have a bike habit. I feel so limited without one, even for a few days. This one is the opposite of the last. It has lots of gears and rides really well. It's a boybike, though, and the stem is a little too long, the handlebars a little too pushed forward. Not a good riding position long term - hard on the upper back and not great on the lower. Options are to change the handlebars (might give that a go tomorrow, get an upright set - ooh, a man told me what they were called today. North something). Or ride it short term, take it inside when I go away and put it back on gumtree in a month or two and pick up something else later. 

Maskfest today. Dave and I have made a full mask each, from clay base building to a first layer of papier mache and a cloth layer too. I've also added to three half masks and made another building cast (of Dave's face - facial hair definitely makes things more complicated, but the cast is good). They look great. There are stages, when you're making a mask, when you despair at how impossibly long it takes. It does, but all of it is satisfying and creative and therapeutic and just really good fun, so even when it gets tedious (it's good to stop when you wish you could carry on... committing to another layer is ace too. Can make it harder to start up again, though, as the very last memory was a kind of overtired space cadet state). I currently have 16 faces in this room, in different states of readiness, not including my own.

And now, I'm holding out. The telly is being used, so I can't watch the final episode of Top of the Lake. I need to see how soon I can watch it on iPlayer. As soon as I can, I will officially Get The Fuck In. Nice. 


* I found out that it's a band. I don't want to know what the word means. It doesn't matter what it is... to me, it's just Bumfrang.