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Fashion Victim, Twitter, Wordpress

Ten years younger

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not so grey

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.

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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… all of it.

You might see a few new functions on the site as I’ve got lots of new toys to play with.

Let me know what you think, especially if it gets too cluttered.

If you use WordPress and haven’t upgraded – do it.  It’s worth it

And oh, Twitter.  I am fast realising what a time-waster that is.  I hardly had time to scratch myself between tweets today.  Lucky I had the day off!

Fashion Victim

So hot and so grey

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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?”

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It’s so grey.

Ever since I read Going Grey last year, I’ve been on the road to letting my hair grow out, that’s partly why I got the short hair cut, but you know… I just don’t think I’m ready.

Bad enough that I need to be exercising more, controlling my intake more (note how I didn’t say the d-word), that I need to increase my reading glasses strength… I’m only 42 for crying out loud – I’m not ready.

I was watching Oprah last night – Mum taped the program and saved it for me to watch – and it was all about embracing your age – but none of the stars, guests that she interviewed had grey hair.  Not even any of the “real people” had grey hair – except for one sad grandmother who has suffered from depression ever since her kids left home.

I don’t want to be in the sad camp!

So I’m going to dye my hair again.  Get back on that treadmill of dyeing and roots and throwing money at the problem.

I’ll let you know how I go on Saturday.