Where Will Your Road Lead?

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I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about where my road is leading me and I’ve decided that I won’t get old without a fight.  I won’t let my road lead to nowhere.

I’m watching people that were passionate and impulsive and full of energy let their lives slip away and I don’t want to go that way.

Please understand I’m not talking about aging, that happens and quite frankly I’m debating the whole botox issue* with myself at the moment. Crazy Cat Boy has taken to calling me “Angry Bird” and having just seen myself on screen, I’m inclined to agree with him.  It’s that gradual loss of a sense that anything is possible and doing interesting things with life that scares me.

So even though I’m in the second half of my life I’ve decided that I wont get old without a fight, I won’t give up on seeking out new opportunities and I sure as hell won’t allow taking a different way home from the shops to become an exciting thing in my world.  I’ve been as guilty of this as the next person, life gets busy and somehow we forget to live it along the way as the days and then months slip by.

I want to have an answer that is more than “oh, you know, just busy” when someone asks me what I’ve been doing.

I wont be scared, I refuse!  I’m issuing the challenge to anyone who wants to play along – What will you be able to say when someone asks “What have you been up to?”?

Where will your road lead you?


*There is a post coming on this.

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These Slippers are Toast!

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Seriously what’s the deal?  I’m not a 90 year old woman and I’d prefer not to advertise the fact that I’ve got a touch of bogan in me* to the world. So how is it that I can’t find a tasteful, stylish, hell, I’d settle for bland and boring at this point, pair of slippers to save myself?

The market seems to consist of either “fun”, read I’ve got the taste and intellect of a 12 year old and want a pair of shoes with ears or a face on them or “fugly”  ugg boots or old lady shoes.  There is simply nothing in between.  All I want is a pair of plain black slippers that don’t draw attention to themselves, I’m not asking for much am I?

For the last six years since moving to wine country I’ve been on the hunt – it gets cold out here and now I have a yard that I venture into some mornings (only to scare the birds away so the cats don’t eat them you understand, I don’t stroll around surveying my domain, well not that I’m letting on about anyway!) so socks or bare feet won’t cut it anymore.

Besides, I’ve invested a lot in nice sleepwear and being a long term fan of the correct accessories I’d rather freeze than ruin my “look” with the wrong shoe.

An extensive internet search the world over led me to Macy’s who had dull but tasteful ballet slippers that met my two major style criteria;

  1. No “old lady” bow
  2. Not made of velour

I joyfully ordered said slippers, and, while I was at it a new cocktail dress, to justify the postage you understand – No, I didn’t fool me with that logic either, but I ordered the dress anyway.  Two weeks later the dress showed up but no shoes, apparently there had been a run on the only acceptable footwear  I’d found (probably by frustrated, well dressed middle aged women, but I digress) and they had sold out, not to be restocked.

Frustrated I began my search again, convinced that somewhere in the world there would be an acceptable pair of black stylish slippers.  And you know what I was right, for the asking price of a mere $600 I could have a pair that almost looked the part.  Even though I was desperate by this stage my inner tight arse suggested that $600 was a touch extreme even for me when I’m annoyed  – I can be impulsive, mostly it’s charming, sometimes irrationally expensive!

So I took myself off to the nearest shopping centre and slouched my way through the various stores muttering** to myself that none of it was good enough and finally I bought the marginally acceptable “items” that you see above.

I took them home and optimistically teamed them with my lovely robe and night gown and you know what, they look dreadful!    So, these slippers are toast and my hunt goes on!

*it’s an Australian thing, we all do, we can’t help it.

**It wasn’t all doom and gloom however to cheer myself up I bought two new shirts from Cue that I’m loving.

PS: As you can tell I have so much distain for the slippers I didn’t even wipe the toaster down before taking the shot LOL.  Also, I was going to use winky faces in this post but have just discovered that giving your face a “nose” is now old fashioned, when did that happen?   I must be old  😉  … a face needs a “nose” right?

This not drinking thing…

 

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For anyone wondering what a short period of not drinking is like here’s my short story…

Waking up not hungover for a second Saturday in a row has its merits. We are on day 14* of 2017 and we’ve only drunk once, on the 4th.  I’d like to say that we had a civilised glass over dinner and that was it, but of course we drank two bottles and were cranky the next day.

So what does ten days sober look like for this Crazy Cat Lady? Glad you asked…

  • I feel better, both physically and mentally
  • My skin looks clearer, less red.  I have Rosacea and not drinking is absolutely helping
  • I’ve lost some weight. I’ve been exercising more, but not drinking 3 or 4 bottles a week has to help.
  • I’m calmer
  • I kind of feel like I used to before I drank a lot – it’s a weird hopefulness or happiness that I can’t explain I like myself better
  • At the risk of sharing TMI, I feel sexier
  • I’ve got a stack of time on my hands – we painted the house over the break in the time we would have spent drinking
  • My hair has stopped falling out (OMG, what the hell is booze doing to me exactly??)

I’ve not had any withdrawal issues that I’ve noticed. I deliberately reduced the amount I drank over Christmas and new year. It helped me deal with the stress of dealing with family and all the attendant fun stuff that comes with the holiday season (Christmas day is a post on its own!), so perhaps that helped.

I’ve read a lot about people replacing wine with deserts etc when first giving up but I’ve not experienced that. It could be (Crazy Cat Boy has been mainlining sweet stuff like there is no tomorrow, so perhaps he is) that I’m not really a sweet tooth, I’m more a salt and fats kind of girl.

I even went to bed sober NYE and it’s been years since I’ve done that.  It used to be in my party days I didn’t drink NYE as I thought waking up hungover to start a new year was a bad idea. What changed is still an unanswered question that I’ll have to look at later on.

So, where to from here? CCB wants a new TV ( we don’t need one, he just “wants” one- boys and gadgets, sigh), so I’ve struck a deal whereby we don’t buy wine for four months so the money saved can go to pay for it.

This means for the next four months at least I’ll not be drinking.  I’ve got some usually heavy drinking work events in February  however a change in management is also changing our culture in that area so I’ll have an “out” so to speak.

My thoughts so far on not drinking are give it a whirl, what’s the worst that happens?  You might feel better and save some cash.  That sounds like a win to me.

 

*In case you think I can’t count, I wrote this Saturday but was too lazy to fire up the PC and post it. Somethings not drinking hasn’t changed!  LOL

Wardrobe Crisis!

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What happened to generate this eye catching, dramatic headline you ask?  It started innocently enough; I was invited to the Australian Open with friends who are also business associates.  The problem is this meant “casual”.

“Casual” has always escaped me; I’m not good with casual.  Formal I nail, my work look is money no matter where you put me, but casual???

Hmmm…the tennis, right, fine: cargos, wedges, cute top, done.  But then lunch was mentioned and that threw me, lunch where? Were my cargos going to cut it? The top I was going to wear certainly wasn’t.  What now?

In my twenties this was never a problem. Lunch with the Queen, that ultra-cute white Cue outfit with the floaty skirt and short sleeved double breasted jacket would be perfect. Impromptu ski trip, no dramas; Day at the beach, sorted; Drinks with the PM, let me change my shoes and we are good to go.  I was never short of an appropriate outfit.  Now a simple trip to a slightly swankier shopping centre can throw me.

When did I go from finger on the pulse of fashion and always feeling put together to this slightly uncomfortable feeling that my shoes aren’t quite right?  Sigh.

Well, must fly, someone mentioned afternoon drinks at their place in February and I’ve got some serous planning to do!

PS: in case you are wondering I went with a good top, skinny jeans, the wedges and was boiling hot all day. My hosts showed up in shorts and thongs!  I can’t win. LOL

Help, My Thighs Have “Hail Damage”!

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I stand before you (well, sit on my tubby arse before you) a 60 odd kg, cellulite sprinkled, pasty white, spotty armed Crazy Cat Lady who feels let down by her mirror.  How did this happen and how can I reverse it in three weeks?

Here is my day of woe began…

I’m working out of a client’s office today so this morning instead of just brushing my hair and pulling on jeans and a tee, I slapped on some makeup and slipped on a new dress, well, that was the plan.

The dress, purchased only 12 months ago does not fit properly.  Not only did it not “slip” as advertised, it actually “dragged” over the hip area and a very visible panty and waist line appeared where it shouldn’t have!

How did this happen (the can of Coke on my desk as I type might be a small give away)?  I thought I was still pretty fit: so I consulted the friendly mirror, the one in the ensuite, not the harsh reality mirror that lives in the main bathroom.

Gulp! The mirror has had a personality change and is throwing up some unwelcome sights under the glare of the double heat lamp.

Not only do my eyebrows need a decent pluck, but there are vast expanses of very white, very “hail damaged” thighs and buttocks that are a lot more wobbly than I’d like to admit.   Not only that, but my arms are spotty and have weird multiple tan lines from different length sleaves and bingo wings!  Bloody Nora!

However that’s not the biggest problem. In three weeks I’m catching up with friends that I haven’t seen since high school  (navigating the whole Facebook friend gauntlet reconnecting with them is a whole other post)and I want to look hot damn it!

So, I’m assessing my options:

  1. Take legal action against the designer of said “slip dress” for wrongful advertising
  2. Surgery – excessive?  Probably, but let’s not rule anything out
  3. Expensive “smoothing” creams and gels – see how desperate I’m becoming, I’m starting to want to believe the hype!
  4. Convert to any religion that needs me to cover head to toe loose clothes – extreme, maybe, but as a short term solution option, I’m game
  5. Spanks – ‘nuff said!
  6. More green stuff, less coke – probably a solid option for my overall health, but I loves me my coke 😉
  7. Less wine – see “more green” above!  LOL
  8. More moving – again see boring health stuff above
  9. Find the Kettle bell – by hook or by crook I’ll deflab these arms.

I know what you are thinking, I really only have one solid option, fake my own death, but I’d really like to catch up with them all so perhaps I’ll try the “health” option…. stay tuned dear reader, I’ll post updates on my painful progress!

So They Put Your Boob In a Vice….

surprised faceOk, so the technical term is “plates”, and I’m sure there is a fancy medical term that they use when we civilians aren’t around. Yep, that’s right I had a mammogram and I’ve lived to tell the tale!

I’m one of the many who have a higher chance of breast cancer, yay, lucky me. However, since I moved to wine country a few years ago and am over 40, I’m also one of the lucky few who qualify for free mammograms every couple of years. Yep, you heard it here first folks, every two years I get my breasts squished for free!

So every couple of years I trot off to the local breast screen clinic and make small talk with a medical professional who is usually a woman older than me while topless and trying not to move while less than sexy shots are taken of my boobs.   I don’t envy this poor woman’s job either, “Try and stay still and don’t breathe dear”, is usually what I hear while the technician tries valiantly to get enough of my less than generous assets into the machine so she can do the scan. Personally I think I’m probably having more armpit and side boob fat scanned than actual breast. LOL, what ya gunna do, you work with what you have!

For anyone who hasn’t had one and is wondering what to expect, don’t hold off, it’s surprisingly fast and easy. I didn’t feel any pain at all; very firm pressure, but no pain. Sure, the resulting photos aren’t the sexy glamour shots that you’d post to Instagram if you were Kim Kardashian, but for 15 minutes of your Saturday morning and some small talk, I’d recommend you take advantage of the amazing service we are lucky enough to have access to for free in Australia… it might just save your life.

PS: If you are 40 and over living in rural Australia you qualify for earlier screening. Ask your doctor.

If I’ve got mums face, who’s has she got?

lipsI’m not a makeup girl, never have been, but sometimes it’s called for. Sure, I slap on a bit of liner some subtle shadow and mascara before heading off to see clients, but foundation and lipstick are almost unheard of for me in a standard office visit. It’s cool, they know what I look like; so far no one has recoiled in horror when I check in at Reception, so I figure I’m ok to keep up this lax routine.

There was an important meeting last week, so I decided to step it up and “look the part” (We were up for some hardball negotiations: a girls got to feel confident and sometimes a killer pair of heels just isn’t enough **)

I realised something was wrong when the foundation brush seemed to stop half way down my face. That doesn’t look right, I know it’s been a while, but I’m sure that it shouldn’t look that dry and flaky. Perhaps the bottle has gone off. Ohhhh, that’s my face that’s dry and flaky, hmm. Extra moisturiser should do the trick. Damn, now it’s not thick enough to cover those weird brown and red spots that never used to be around the edges of my face. OMG, are they age spots and where did those blue veins that are normally hidden by my hair come from? Might be time to book in for a session of resurfacing with “Connie the Laser Lady”.

Right, that’s got the foundation sorted, I’m still not entirely happy; when I smile I have eye wrinkles. I thought makeup was supposed to hide that stuff?

Oh well, lips next.   Since when did the lip liner bounce along like that? Where did those craters come from around my lips? I don’t smoke, this can’t be right (Mental note: pay more attention to Connie when she talks about fillers next time)! Oh, well, lipstick will cover that wonky line. Lordy, that bright colour that I’ve worn for years makes my teeth look yellow! Think quick, tone it down with something duller. That’s better, crisis averted.

Then it hits me. My mind flies back to a 15 year old me taking control of my mum before a wedding and “doing” her makeup. I remember the way her eyelids moved with the brush when I put the shadow on and the how her lipstick bled up lines above the lip. OMG, somehow I’ve I got my mother’s face. How did that happen? I spend a small fortune on organic facial products, I wasn’t meant to get old makeup skin!

I look in the bathroom mirror and a painted person that I’m not sure is me looks back. I wonder who’s face mum is wearing if I’ve got hers these days? Oh hell, perhaps it grandmas! It seems that fresh horrors still await me!

PS: I checked my lipstick when I hit the office and sure enough, it was bleeding up lines that almost reached my nose, I’m doomed! 😉

** Yeah, yeah, I know, how about using your intellect and superior negotiation skills? Your appearance shouldn’t have a bearing on it. I know all that, trust me, I’ve got mad skills and I use ‘em, but still sometimes looking as fabulous as you are capable is a big confidence booster.