Redsultana

OMFG! I can fit into my 13 year old daughter’s size 5 (US) jeans! Sure I can’t breathe. And luckily they are lo-rise so all the wobbly bits squeeze “above the line”. But still. Size freaking 5! I am happy. Now why am I suddenly craving a muffin…

I thought it was just me that kept a pair of tweezers in my car but the other day I discovered another close friend of mine had the same secret. Yes we’re both (cough) forty-something (cough) and yes occasionally we’ve sat at the lights… looked in the visor mirror and almost spat out our take-away coffee. Ugh!  What is THAT doing growing THERE?!!! The problem is that at 40-something, not only do you start growing hair in unusual places but your eyesight is failing. So it is rare for you to notice that stray hair until you are faced with the mega-magnification of that little mirror on the inside of your visor. And even if you did notice that rogue – wtf is that doing on my face – hair… quite often,  because you need glasses, you can’t do anything about it. Have you ever tried to pluck your eyebrows,

Interviewer:  So perhaps you could tell us your greatest weakness… Applicant:  Well I guess my greatest weakness is that I can get caught up in a job and feel compelled to finish it up – to the point where I will lose track of time. I started making a dress for my baby girl last night and found I just couldn’t stop! At 1.15 I thought I should call it a night. At 3am said baby girl woke me up with a headache. I am soooooooooooooo tired. Hey but the dress is coming together!

I’m wearing a dress to work today which is one I picked up at the Bindaring Red Cross Sale three or four years ago. I haven’t been able to fit into it for a couple of years but tried it on the other night and yay – it fits! And boy have I been getting comments today. Loving that. I guess the boobage would have something to do with it and the fact that I have my dominatrix boots on… For me it’s also about success in losing the 6 kilos necessary to squeeze back into it. I’m getting my wardrobe back!

Probably, if you’re female and reading this, you will be the type that has ALWAYS worn matching underwear. You know… your bra matching your knickers. Yeah. I thought so. Well not me I’m afraid. I’m the sort of gal that visits Marks and Spencers when visiting the UK and buys several packets of undies to last me YEARS between trips. If there isn’t ten in a pack I feel ripped off. Tragic I know. I mean, how many cotton bombers does one girl need? Last week I decided to grow the F up. I’m 43 and the days of mismatched underwear are over. I know what you’re thinking… what WAS I thinking… Well I never really saw the point of spending heaps on underwear – who sees it? – but ever since Groover bought me those bright red Christmas knickers and bra – fondly nicknamed “The Sex Pants” – well

What a week! Two funerals – which to be fair were both uplifting in their own ways.  An odd mixture of celebration and sadness and seeing people at their most real. I do like this trend of personal funerals rather than the traditional church burials – you really feel you know the person. As for mine? I don’t care. Cremate me in a cardboard box and play Yo-Yo Ma’s Bach Cello Suite 1 as you throw my ashes off the ridge at Ennuin (or wherever),  that’d do for me.  It’s up to you. Funerals are for the living not the dead.  I stopped to smell the roses on the way to work one day this week.  That’s what funerals do for you. It didn’t smell but it did look pretty. I wasn’t going to talk about funerals today, but I guess they have been a big part of this week.

This last couple of weeks I’ve realised something profound. Well… profound for me. I’ve realised that I’ve made a mental shift from last year. This year, I’m saying yes to life. But more than that, for once in my life I feel as if I can set goals and make them happen. Sure they are not huge goals, but last year at my lowest ebb, I could not even work out what I wanted to do, about anything. It’s me time. I guess the archeological dig was the first big thing. I wanted to go on a scientific expedition – to get the feeling I got when I was 16 up in the Kimberley canoeing down crocodile infested rivers. Yes that meant leaving my family for a week. Imagine that. Going away. On a holiday. Without my family. !! It was so empowering to do something just for myself. Not

Okay maybe not ten… In many ways now that I’ve decided to dye my hair again I feel as if I’ve given up. But… I think it’s better to feel it rather than look it! I had lunch today with a friend who I haven’t seen in about six months.  She has a new man, is going for a new job and looks happier than I’ve seen her in a while. I love that about female friendships. You might not see eachother for ages as life – lets face it – does get in the way but when you get back together it’s as if you have been in touch every week. I guess male friendships are the same? For bloggers out there… I’m writing this on Wordpress 2.7.  I like it.  I like the layout, the groovy new functions like get plugin – oh that makes life easy, and well…

It’s so hot. So hot I can’t think, I can’t breathe. The sweat pools under my breasts, slides over my stomach and drops on my thighs as I type, I’m sticking to the leather chair. I can’t bear the thought of organising dinner, of even thinking about dinner, which might be a good thing except for the two teenagers who are hungry after their first day back at school. I’m wearing a gossimer thin sarong tied in a knot above my breasts – it’s too hot even for cloth on my shoulders, for a bra.  And I’m wearing undies. Frankly I feel over-dressed but my children became unexpectedly prudish about a mother cooking in the nude. “Is that er… even hygenic?” And to complete the misery not only am I about to melt like the Wicked Witch of the West into a puddle on the floor but I’m finally over

Enough said. New Year’s Eve 2009.