Let it all Out

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ahJ6Kh8klM4

I'm feeling a bit fragile.

I've had the worst moods for the last 7 days and thought it would ease off but today I feel really, really sad.

I went to Docs last night regarding the trapped nerve/numb arm and it was good.  He gave me loads of stronger anti inflammatory tablets and has referred me for physiotherapy and an MRI scan, as the neck/shoulder problems have been coming back for years, even though this is the first time I've felt numbness. 

Whilst in the doctors waiting room, I was flicking through an old Good Housekeeping magazine that had Lulu on the cover.  I actually took a photo of two recipes out of the mag, Ginger & Thyme Chicken Meatballs and Smoked trout Jacket Potato (with sweet potato).  I will attempt to make these at some point in my life but last night we opted for cheap n easy lambs liver, bacon, mash, cabbage n leeks and onion gravy.

I met my new team leader at work a couple of days ago and it's left me feeling a bit uneasy.

She's probably very nice but I just didn't feel an instant rapour.  I felt on edge and like the whole meeting was a bit corporate and guarded.  Probably more on my side than anything.  It's all so unsettled at the moment.  It's hard for all involved in any sort of restructure that involves cutting costs.  I hope she saw through my awkwardness and didn't feel it was personal.  I do miss my old boss though. 

Me, S and the kids were sitting in the garden on Sunday evening with radio 6 playing on the PC and me & S were squashed into the corner of the patio, desperately craving the last square metre of sunshine before it set behind our home, watching the kids giggling and wrestling on the lawn.  Nightswimming by REM came on and S turned to me and said, "if I ever suffer a bump on the head or something and lose my memory and don't know who you and the kids are, please just know that I have had the best time of my life since I've met you Deb".

REM are definitely a band to play when you fancy 'letting it all out'.  Personally, Day Sleeper makes me cry but I have stuck the link for Nightswimming at the top of this post for you to play, because it really is a simple and beautiful song.

I read a friends blog post about her son being a bit off and her suggesting he step away from the computer and choose a board game for them to play.  He chose Monopoly and his mood lifted.  Even reading that made me emotional. 

The whole Amy Winehouse thing has had a weird effect on me, as has the waste of young innocent lives in Norway by that kunt who needs to be destroyed instantly. What the hell they're wasting time and money on him for beggars belief. Get rid!

I bought the Mail on Sunday, (because the advert tricked me into believing there was a £5 off voucher for TESCO inside but actually, you have to join the Daily Mails website and give your details first)... I would not under normal circumstances buy the Mail. 

I was reading an article in one of it's supplements by a middle aged woman who had gone out of her comfort zone, to a festival as her very new boyfriend was playing in a band there.  He'd invited her to camp with him, (in a posh tent).  The article was good at first but after a while, it was full of cliches about how some young leggy blonde hippy chick checked her in and how she had not a scrap of make up on blah de blah de blah.

Sometimes, it'd be nice to read a whole magazine that was packed full of women my age who were positive and confident and who didn't give a toss about what others thought.  No wonder we're all crippled with anxiety about our appearance, sexual prowess, talents, parenting skills etc etc

This morning, I played Adele singing 'Someone Like You', live at The Brits, (watch it on You Tube) and as her powerful, vulnerable, emotive, crowd silencing performance ended, my four year old son remarked, "she's got a bit of a fat face though hasn't she Mummy"?  That really p*ssed me off and got me questioning the sort of influence I am on my kids and how I must moan about my weight too much in front of them.  Why did he even notice fat, or thin?

It's summer holidays here and all the schools have broken up for 6 weeks.  The summer holidays always felt weird when I was younger as Mum didn't let me just go out and play as she was a huge worrier, so I rarely went to others to play, or had friends over and just wasn't allowed to walk round the corner to my friends house so I always felt cut off.  All these years later and I feel like that today.  My friends are miles away, or at work.  I still have no one to play with!

I'm getting my kids into sports and activities from an early age because from my experience, S has a lot more confidence than me and his childhood was completely the opposite to mine.  According to him, his Mum being very young, wasn't really ready to be a mum and hence, he was often playing out at four years old,  and even overnight, he reckons as early as eleven years!

As a result, he seems relaxed, adaptable and streetwise, where as I am cautious and guarded.  He panics and fusses over our kids though and I tend to push them and want them to toughen up.  We both cuddle them and encourage them a lot though, so it works.  It works really well.

It's one of those nothing days.  The sky is grey and just so still.  I'm off today with the kids and have been making stuff out of Lego but they now want to watch CBBC.  The days where you have nothing to do, nowhere to be and no one telling you to hurry up are very rare.  Me and the kids are enjoying slothing about, unbrushed, unwashed and still in our PJ's.

Things are changing.  Work, family, relationships, friendships, age, health.... things that we have not much control over. 

Colleagues who I class as real friends have been moved to other areas, under the new structure. 

I am trying to potty train my daughter and my son is starting school soon.

On Sunday, my son ran into the kitchen crying uncontrollably.  He'd been playing in the garden and something had happened.  Both S and I thought he'd been stung and ran to where he'd been playing and asked him to calmly tell us what had happened.  He pointed to a hole in the fence and forced the word, "HAMBO" out, before crying again. 

I jumped up onto the fence and peered over it.  There I caught a glimpse of white fur, disappearing behind a plant pot.  Our son had snuck his hamster, John J Hambo, out to play in the garden and he'd escaped into next doors garden through the gap, to have a nose around.

The neighbour guided Hambo back towards the hole and he crawled back to the safety of S's hands. 

It was a real eye opener for me and S and we realised then that our four yr old son had matured and developed a real nurturing, caring 'friendship' with the little hamster who til then, I'd bought on a whim and S had thought was a bad idea.  We've had him for almost 3 years now and he's just sort of there, being fed and cleaned out by me.  To our son though, he's always been there and means more to him than we gave him credit for.  It really was a lovely moment, if you know what I mean?

This post is a bit disjointed and all over the place but I suppose it is how my brain is functioning today.

I'm fed up of moaning, (although I, rather obviously from this post, will not stop) and am trying to do positives to lift my mood.  Exercise. Drinking water. Apologising.

I am attempting to write a children's book.  I am stuck on Chapter three, which in positive speak means, I have got off to a good start and written two chapters that I like, out of thin air.  My son laughed in the right places too, so that's a good sign.

Books are funny things.  I never got into Harry Potter and have never read even one of the books and until last weekend, had never even watched one of the films all the way through.  I did however, watch The Chamber of Secrets, from start to finish, curled up on the settee with both my kids and S on the other settee and thoroughly enjoyed it.  It's the only really magical, atmospheric 'kids' film I've seen in years. 

As a kid, I loved Bedknobs & Broomsticks and Wizard of Oz and Charlie & The Chocolate Factory with Gene Wilder.  Since then, there's been bugger all to really get into for kids.  In my opinion. 

A friend bought my son a few of the Horrid Henry books, for his 4th birthday and after catching a bit of the series on telly, I thought it was inappropriate, like the AWFUL Tracy Beaker.  Just a rude kid back chatting and disrespecting all grown ups, for laughs.

I decided recently to give Horrid Henry another chance and started reading the books again. 

Yeah, I would clip Horrid Henry round the ear if he were my kid but he isn't.  And Just like I used to read Burglar Bill, or My Naughty Little Sister and thoroughly enjoy reading about how disobedient she was but didn't want to act like them, my son chuckled all the way through the Horrid Henry books.  We're going to watch Horrid Henry 3D next week at the Cinema.  Can't wait!

At the end of Horrid Henry Rocks, Henry finds himself on stage at a 'babies' concert and through sheer embarrassment blurts out a horrid poem, "Granny on her crutches, push her off her chair, Shove shove shove shove, SHOVE HER DOWN THE STAIRS"!

Well, my son thought this was the funniest thing he'd ever heard and promptly rang my mum, to sing it down the phone to her!  Luckily he was laughing so much that she couldn't really get what he was saying.

I am not feeling quite as fragile after writing this.  Sometimes, you just need to let it all out eh? 

Thanks for listening.



Three



good



books

    

The kids with John J Hambo



What a Nerve

Doctors tomorrow, as I have a suspected trapped nerve somewhere near my right shoulder blade.

I felt myself getting sort of compressed, from jogging on the treadmill and kind of achy from weight lifting (small weights, high reps) and so I decided I'd pop along to Pilates. 

I thought I could do with a damn good stretch.

Well, it wasn't even that stretchy and I walked out of there feeling like I'd go again BUT Thursday morning came and I could hardly move me neck!  Well, it hurt a lot to look down and wasn't particularly comfy looking left, right & up either.  Now, after a trip to minor injuries on Saturday, due to my right arm going numb, I have been advised to go to Docs if problem persists.  Well, it has not only persisted but got progressively worse.  The Nurofen work for about 30 mins then back to sickly pins & needles feeling again.

AM I DESTINED TO BE FATTY PATTY ALL BEEF OR WHAT?

First i got shin splints, now a trapped effing nerve.

I tell you what, I deserved those two slices of cake at lunchtime.  I DESERVED THEM!

Lard and Lakes

I have had a few days off the old exercise and a few days on the chocolate, crisps and party food.  Due mainly to the wedding on Friday and then, well, I just slunk back into the cosy world of laziness.

Saturday just gone, we were quite rightly hungover, although S was a lot worse than me as he drank pints whilst I opted for rose spritzers.  Weak rose wine and fizzy water.  So I did make a bit of an effort as it would've been easy for me to opt instead for litres of Baileys, (mmmmmn Baileys) but I didn't.

I did eat half a quiche and probably 10 cocktail sausages, wedding cake, crisps, etc etc and on the Saturday morning, after getting in at 1.30am, the kids were still in the land of nod, as was S, by 9.30 so I shuffled downstairs and brought up 6 slices of very thick cheese on toast.....mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmn, cheese.

At about 11 am, the four of us plotted on the sofa, like a family of Ozzy Osborne's and ate onion rings, nik naks, salt n vinegar squares, beef monster munch, spicy transformer snacks, prawn cocktail walkers, milk bottle sweets, kinda bueno, bounty bars and other chocolate and a chicken!

We had a small dinner.

Sunday, we had a walk around the lakes.  This took about three hours and we explained to the kids that due to the gluttony of the past few days, we all had to 'get some air in our lungs'.  They loved it.  We loved it.



My family




I told the kids this was the magic faraway tree




My boys sorting out a good future fishing spot




some pervy bugs, makin love not war

 For once, I took proper photo's of the surroundings and although I have no idea how to work my cheap digital camera, the scenery spoke for itself.  Just pure and utter serenity.

So, Monday came around too quickly, as always and I had vowed that I would get back down the gym.  I didn't.  I came home and asked S to pick me up a Toblerone on his way home.  I sat and ate the entire bar in a few minutes.  I hadn't simply fallen off the wagon, I had plummeted to the ground, got the reigns wrapped round a fat ankle and been dragged by said wagon,  through several towns.

Today, Tuesday, I had already booked myself into an exercise class and got my 50p ready for the big weigh in.  I have put on 1lb, so I am back up to 11st 5lb. Not bad eh?  It did get me thinking about cake a lot and today at work, I got talking to my colleague Jo who said she was thinking about baking a cake and bringing it in.  Jo has a gluten intolerance so she said she'll make in 'healthy'. I suggested attempting to make a really healthy cake with no butter and no sugar.

When I got home and read a few blogs, I saw Linda's post for today and thought, 'what a bloomin coincidence'!  Or is it that all us poor women are constantly battling our brains and taste buds to sustain a less rotund waistline?

http://www.lindastwaddle.com/2011/07/healthy-baking.html  Have a look at Linda's post and if you can think of a way to make a cake without the use of fat and sugar, TELL US ALL!!!???!!

Tonight, whilst reading Linda's blog, I ate 6 fish fingers and some curly kale.  hmmm.

Seven Large

Would anyone out there like to give me £7000? 

I was just reading that the Scottish couple who have scooped £161 million on the Euro Lottery may have to flee the country after being inundated by begging letters.

One hundred and sixty one million pounds.

Surely they could hire someone to sort the wheat from the chaff?  I mean, come on, if you won that kind of money, you'd want to help quite a few people out. Wouldn't you?

None of the low life spamming scrotes who bombard us via email every day, trying to stitch people up and con us all no but all the people you've met over the years who just struggle.  Like me.

I would definitely help someone like me, who works but can't afford to get certain over priced necessities. 

I would help working people, disabled or retired men and women who bothered to explain their situation and why they needed a little extra financial help, if I agreed, or understood their plight. 

According to some websites, the interest on £161 million is around £9000 per day. So you could easily give away say, £7000 a day to worthy people and still be making lots of money.

It's a shame that they are worrying already about beggars.  If you dealt with the beggars properly, it might be quite fulfilling. 

So, back to me and that £7000.  Honestly, if anyone out there is rich enough not to miss £7000 too much and would like to give it to me, I will use it wisely, for a necessity that I simply cannot afford.

Well done you two!

Social Anxiety & The Wedding

I don't know about you lot but I suffer from anxiety.

Not all the time and thankfully, not often but if there is an event, or we have agreed to go somewhere in the near future, I start panicking.

I think you call it 'social anxiety'.

First time I had it was when I came back from travelling and was attempting to live a normal, non partying, routine existence.  Work, home, bed- work home bed- work home bed and seeing my friends on the weekend only.  I wasn't a good drunk at all and really don't need drugs or stimulants as I am naturally quite obsessive and hyper and tactless.  Add drink and drugs into the pot and quite often, I was a nightmare.  I was listening to BBC Radio 1 on Thursday and they had Westwood warning young men and women that when they go to these party destinations, Majorca, Cyprus etc etc not to go on to the beaches at night as they really aren't safe at all.  I used to be out of it, dancing in some club and get bored, so without telling my friends, I'd walk out of the club, onto the beach, alone and run into the sea for a cooling, sobering swim.  I am so lucky that nothing ever happened to me.

Anyway, when I came back from years of partying, occasionally, the whole seriousness of life would give me anxiety.  I think I was worrying what people thought of me, or what they expected me to act like.

An anxiety attack could happen in the middle of a shop, on the way to work, wherever.  For a few long months, it was very, very difficult.  It actually opened the communication up between me and my Dad because I had tried telling Mum about them but she had panicked and just kept offering me cups of tea, so one evening, I had come home from work and attempted to tell my Dad that I had accidentally bought a travel pass that didn't cover me for the entirety of my journey and was made to feel like a scum bag, criminal by the station inspectors and I started crying.  It wasn't a 'normal' reaction to a fairly mundane story and this alerted my Dad.  He looked at me and asked why I was getting in such a state about, 'some poxy pen pushing parasites who have nothing better to do than bully young women' and I kind of broke down.  I went on and on about how hard I was finding the transition from partying to sobriety, from no responsibilities or routine, to work and groundhog day. Uncharacteristically, my Dad, who is a clever man but a man of few words, (hardly any at all until that moment) sat bolt upright and said sternly, 'Well, I can give you a pat on the back, or a hug but I can't do it for you', and I wailed, "GIVE ME A HUG THEN" and before he could peg it out the door with his golf bag, I hugged him and he hugged me.

So, that was the first time I can remember ever having any kind of anxiety.  It lasted on and off for a few months whilst I got used to not living on a holiday island.

I didn't get them again until about 6 years later at my friends wedding.  I was a bridesmaid and was really excited for her and looking forward to helping her with her hair and make up.  The morning came and the bride and maid of honour, ended up playing dolphin music to me whilst burning lavender scented candles and plying me with chamomile tea!  Hahaha funny now but at the time, it was bloody horrible.

An anxiety attack, if you've never had one, feels like your mind has built something up so that your body is now dreading an event and this brings on the fight or flight reaction.  I think my body/mind always chooses fight and this means it pumps my system full of adrenaline, (getting ready for the fight).  Adrenaline is such a useful chemical but only when you need it.  When you don't, it sort of spins and whirrs around your blood like electricity.  In really strong attacks, I feel like I want to climb out of my own skin, or hide under a huge duvet.  I get tunnel vision and cannot smile, (even fake ones), and can't eat, drink or stop yawning.  The yawning is because your brain is telling you, in order to fight, you need more oxygen and the tunnel vision is something to with back in the day, when we had to hunt our food, we'd have to focus in on the beast in question...so your brain kind of blocks out your peripheral vision to stop distractions.

I hate feeling anxious. 

The only way I have ever been able to contain, or cancel out the attacks is by being very brave and instructing it to do it's worst.  I have to say to myself, "COME ON THEN, BRING IT ON"! 

See, the thing with social anxiety for me is that it's usually just me over analysing a situation, making up imaginary conversations, awkward scenarios and hostility that will no doubt, not ever happen.  So, by telling myself to bring forth with the terror that awaits, tends to be a massive anti climax and the anxiety attack eventually fizzles out.

On the odd occasion when me fronting the attack head on doesn't work, I need to tell anyone who will listen about my fears and gather as many positives as I can from each individual. 

This happened on Thursday.  I had been dreading what should have been a very happy family event for nearly six months.  I had wound myself up into such a panic, that for two weeks before it, I had had an upset stomach and constantly bickered with S about what was inevitably going to occur.  He had done his best to convince me that it was all in my head and that there was no need to feel anything but joy at the upcoming wedding.

Problem was, his ex wife and his sister, (The Duelling Banjo's from my old blog http://theinvisiblewomanuk.blogspot.com/) were going to be there.  I had convinced myself that I would need to fight, I would have nobody to talk to as they were all friends and that the Duelling Banjo's would have given their opinion of me to all the other guests and so, I would be eyeballed all day and night.

The wedding was on Friday 15th July and after months of panic, it went really, really well. 

I had initially made apologies and said it'd be for the best that I did not go, however, on a rare night out, S had explained to me so thoroughly and honestly why he needed me to be there, supporting him, (as the Best Man) that I agreed to go.

When I looked at the seating plan, I felt sick.  I noticed that the duelling banjos had been placed on the table down from the top table whilst me and my kids had been squashed onto a table that seemed as though it was in a separate room, (separated from the top table by an archway).  I wanted to cry and shout and leave there and then but S asked me not to and said it was not done intentionally.  I was convinced, (in my anxious state) that the sister had definitely had a big hand in that. 

The day was a bit awkward at first as I had months of negativity to battle that was going on in my head, simultaneously to me making small talk with numerous faces.  But I filmed S's Best Man's speech, (in which I had some comedic input) and something shifted. 

I was so proud of him as he had been nervous about standing and addressing people he didn't know and trying to make them laugh and it kind of put things into perspective.

After the dinner, we all went outside and S's favourite cousin, who I was convinced was in the duelling banjo's gang, was actually the friendliest, brightest lady ever and chose to sit with me and gossip and fill me in on family history and funny stories, over numerous bottles of wine. Her fiance was there and it was his first time meeting everyone too.  I soon forgot my anxiety and when S's Mum and Step Dad made a bee line for me at separate occasions to tell me how important I was and how I was definitely the perfect match for S and how much they all loved me, (and to stop being so bloody insular) I felt embarrassed and sorry for the months of shite I'd put S through. 

I didn't talk to the Duelling Banjo's but I did talk to their partners who were both friendly and funny.  I saw S's entire family in a different light.  None of us are perfect and we all fcuk up but I really do hold a grudge.  They all tend to just get on with things and there's a lot more enjoyment to be had out of life when you have that kind of mentality.  I have to learn to stop focusing on the what ifs and just concentrate on being me.  For according to some, I am not that bad.

On the Thursday at work, before the wedding, a group of friends/colleagues individually gave me such encouragement and really made me feel it was all possible.  Emma T, Lola, Toni, Janet, Sharon H, Liz, Justina, Sarah C, Chareen, Alison, Linda Twaddle and Jo R were all brilliant.  They all had to put up with hearing about it for months and not one told me to shut up, (and I was thinking it, so they must have been). 

I seem to need a lot more encouragement than S does, even though he loves my attention and gets stroppy when I want to be alone sometimes, he has a confidence about him, where as I am full of self doubt.  It's often the people who appear bolshy and confident that suffer from depression, anxiety and other stuff.

It really was a fabulous day though.  Everyone looked happy.  The bride and groom looked in love and meant to be Mr & Mrs.  So many people  approached  S and me to say what a credit our children were to us.  And the sun shone for the only day that whole week.

Our gorgeous babies!

Me, not looking anxious - with beautiful A and Grandad S.D.

So, a great big stupid thank you to everyone who puts up with me.  Truly, thank you.  x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x PS: When I read this to S, he said, "no one puts up with you Deb, they love you"...awwwwwwwwwwww!!!

Should Men Dye Their Hair?

No.  It is undignified and unmanly.

Yes.  If it makes the individual feel better, it's nobody else's business.

Which camp do you fall into? We are all ageing (if we're lucky) and for some it is kinder to than others.  A few of my girlfriends look better now than they did a few years ago but I definitely looked 10 times better in my 20's.

If someone were to put a ban on me being allowed to dye my hair, well, I just don't know how I'd cope. 

I noticed the first few greys in my mid to late 20's I suppose and as I always got a few blond highlights to up lift my natural mousiness, I just had a few extra ones added.  Gradually, I just had to get them done more regularly and eventually, it stops becoming an accessory to your overall look and more of a necessity to help you look your age!

It's fairly normal, for women to dye their greys, in fact it is the norm.  Even still, I cringe when people, (My Auntie for one) draws attention to them.  "Coor look at your grey roots"!  In front of a crowd of acquaintances at my brothers wedding a few years back.  Apart from that, I looked bloody good in a knee length, scarlet bridesmaids dress! I had been having a few anxiety attacks and was a small size 8 - 10 due to the inability to eat too much.  But, after that comment had been made, I felt a bit ugly & awkward.  Almost like a fraudulent oap, disguised as a 20 something.

So, I dye my hair at home, now every 4 weeks on the roots to hide the grey... but get it 'done' properly I'd say every 4 months. If money were no object, I'd be in the hairdressers every month at least.

No shocker there, so why is it different for men to do it?  Most men look better with a few wrinkles and greys.  There is something rugged and masculine and wise about it.

Some men look like they struggle a bit. 

I was reading The Sunday Times this morning and there is an article about Liz Hurley's partner, cricketer Shane Warne.  Now there has been an astonishing change in his appearance.  He looks like a waxy mannequin now, as opposed to the Ozzie sheep sheering, beer guzzler he used to look like. Although he did look even then like he'd had his teeth veneered and bleached, (that's ok though is it?).

Why do people do this to themselves?  All that money, you'd think they'd be able to find the best, most knowledgeable experts to help them subtly tweak what nature had already given them.  I mean, he wasn't an ugly man to begin with, so why has he felt the need to go to such extremes?  Liz, was this your idea???!

I watched Jackass 3 on dvd last night and noticed that the gorgeous boy/man Johnny Knoxville had suddenly aged.  He looks very skinny and older, all of a sudden and it made me wonder, is it harder for blokes, particularly male celebrities, than it is for us birds?

I mean, just look at the pic above.  We all look at Shane and go AGGGH!!! But Liz has quite obviously had so much more help than old Shaney.  Hers must be a daily, if not hourly task.  She can't eat a lot and the hair, facials, botox, peels, lifts & tucks?? (possibly) must amount to thousands & thousands £££.  Still, Gordon Ramsey getting a hair transplant hits headlines, as does Wayne Rooney, or Simon Cowell's botox eye droop.  It's almost like it's a slur on their manliness, admitting that they need help in the looks department, or that they even care.  Is caring too feminine?

Female celebs get a lot more done and it seems to be completely acceptable.  Unless like Heidi Montag, you completely ruin yourself.  I think it says a lot about our society when it's almost a prerequisite for women over a certain age to have work down to stop themselves looking their age and for men to do the same is sneered at.  Also, the age at which kids are enquiring about surgery and tweaking says a lot.

Me and Marie were going through a magazine and her 8 yr old son was standing nearby.  We showed him an orange, fake boobed, blond celeb and a natural looking celeb.  Both pretty but the natural girl was beautiful and apart from styled hair and shaped eyebrows, she looked like she hadn't yet had any 'enhancements'.  Marie's son chose the pneumatic blond as 'definitely the prettiest'.  We went through the magazine, not judging or commenting but just asking, 'her, or her', and every time, he said the fake was the most attractive.

Is this so different to how it was years ago?  I mean, Marilyn Monroe apparently used to cut a cm off one of her heels on each pair of shoes, to aid the wiggle when she walked.  There are numerous stories from back in the Silver Screen era that wisdom teeth were removed to give a hollow cheeked look and nose jobs and orthodontics were rife.  Even the Technicolor lurid orange skin, coral lipstick and brilliant white teeth on the posters and fanzines were popular then.  All fake and OTT.

I asked S for a male opinion;

"It's just your lot, innit? be happy with the skin you're in.  What's the point of spending money on hiding something that's gonna come out eventually? Save your money and enjoy it instead.  Apart from plucking the middle out of my mono brow...and my back patch, I don't care"

He then added, "If Liz Hurley was caught going to the shops with grey hair, no make up and a tracksuit on, everyone would go, Errr look at Liz Hurley!  If she did an interview or whatever, the following week, with the same grey hair and said "i 'm just letting myself go natural now", nobody would give a sh!t.  it's only because she cares, that other people do". 

Hmmn, it's definitely a strong point and a possibility in some cases but I think that her work may dry up as well as her sex life.  Unless other celebs decided that this was the way to go, she'd be a lone crusader.  Or, it'd work in her favour and she'd be a beautiful example of the natural, confident, older woman.  A real role model for our young girls.  We might all think, FUQ IT! and ditch the dye.

S took our 4 yr old son to watch Transformers 3 the other day and he moaned that Rosie Huntington Whitely looked like a skinny kid and that all the women were so ridiculously thin, orange and model like that it just looked silly.  He actually said that if the other women had been 'normal', it'd make the leading lady stand out. Hmmm again!  Anyway, I asked our son and he said that the ladies in the film looked silly too. hahaha maybe his attitude will change around 14yrs of age!

I believe that confidence has a lot to do with it.  Maybe everything boils down to confidence?  Anyway, here are a few celebs who I think are beautiful...

Audrey Tautou



Christian Bale





Judi Dench





Denzel Washington



Helen Mirren

Jack Nicholson

Jessica Lange

   

Uma Thurman above, (with or without make up) and beautiful Leslie Caron

And here are two of S's offerings...not surprisingly they're both 'tough' women and both featured very sexually in action films, Terminator and True Lies but I think surprisingly and refreshingly, he said that they both look beautiful now too as they have, 'left themselves alone'!

Linda Hamilton then

Linda Hamilton now



Jamie lee Curtis then



Jamie Lee Curtis now

Hmmmm (again), now where did I put those dumbbells?

I Wish I'd Tried Harder at School.

I watched Undercover Boss last night where the owner of Ann Summers sent her sister into the stores as a basic sales assistant, undercover, to talk to the staff and find out where the company was going right and more importantly, where mistakes were being made. 

It ended up being a really heart warming and clever programme.  Rewarding for the top bods and selected sales staff alike.

We've had a restructure at work. 

Basically, where the Government have fucqed us all over, they have decided that by targeting their loyal, hardworking, front line staff most, they will look to the rest of the country like they are saving a few pence. 

So, what's happened is, people who don't know us have been put in charge of the restructure of our department.  What has resulted is me, sitting on what used to be a cheery, loud, boisterous 4 seater desk, now sitting alone, well mentally alone, and literally bored to tears.

For nearly seven years I have dealt with thousands of calls where people have looked to me for help with their finances and housing.  Now, I am meant to be grateful to even have a position there, even though the position they have deemed me fit for is basically dealing with calls about dog sh!t and wasps nests.

So, even though it is a relief for all the worrying and waiting to be over and to not have been made redundant, I cannot help but feel completely let down.

I know I am bloody good at my job, even though I need to get up and have a break from being screamed at by the really stupid callers as I am not as robotic as some of the thicker skinned staff but I give/gave bloomin good advice and used to get, particularly the older callers, thanking me for not being patronising/ speaking clearly/ listening and being polite.  According to these men & women, they often dreaded having to ring 'youngsters' as the service was so poor.

It wasn't the job I had in mind as a child.  I would have loved to have worked in comedy.  I would love to work for myself.  I'd love to be loaded with cash and not have to work at all.  But that is not how it's panned out.

During the waiting period, where we had all filled in 'application forms' and sold ourselves on paper, explaining why we were perfect for the jobs we were already doing, and actually being told that we were not fired, we just panicked.  We all plodded along, like headless chickens whilst colleagues from other departments sympathetically asked if we'd had any news yet, over and over again.  Personally, physically, I got the sh!ts and an itchy scalp.  It's a thing I get when stressed.  Others had burst into tears and the rest just looked frightened and vulnerable.

Even writing this post now I'm thinking that some complete ar&ehole might read it and pass it on to a manager and try to get some sort of pleasure out of it.  I am just being honest.

The whole situation has made me realise how it all amounts to sh!t.

There is absolutely no loyalty where money and politics is involved.  Does it really matter how good you are?  Is it really more important who you know, rather than what you know? I really think so.

I am relieved that I have not been made redundant but to say I am grateful would not be true.  I fucqing deserve a job. I am a great credit to them. 

I am p!ssed off, angry with myself for not being more focused and even angrier for others who take their jobs and the whole corporate image a lot more seriously than me and are devastated at how they have been treated.  Honestly, some have been left shell shocked.

One of my, 'superiors' have always said that I am a square peg in a round hole and that I am wasted there.  I know this to be true but I have no direction and have felt very stuck for a few years now.  I don't have the luxury to be able to finance myself and my family whilst I go and learn some new and interesting subject that I know I'd be good at.  I have to work.  I have to plod along. 

I hope it all settles and when our new 'superiors' get to know us individually, will be able to see our strengths and adjust our roles accordingly. 

I really, truly hope that my kids try harder at school than I did and manage to work for themselves.

VERY QUICKLY!

Tonight at the gym, before my body pump class I weighed in at 11st 5lb...that means I have only lost one pound in the last 7 days???!

I am fucqed off with that result as
a) salads are getting boring,
b) I've worked bloody hard this week and
c) I've had the sh!ts... surely that alone was worth about 2.5lbs??

I bought Clare Nasir's Boot Camp DVD and it's hard but bloomin' brilliant.  I have sweated soooooo much that I can only think the reason my body has decided to stick at 11,5 is down to my new heaving muscles.  I feel like Rocky Balboa when I tense my biceps...someone call a vet, these swans are sick!

On a happier and far more luxurious note, I have discovered Selkies.  http://www.selkiesoaps.com/ Oh my goodness, I cannot recommend the Chocolate body butter enough! It makes your mouth water when you unscrew the lid and it goes on like a dream, really moisturising and made me want to chew my own arm!

And...AND!!! The bath bombs are fabulous! I bought an aniseed one that has star anise inside and smells really beautiful and also a coconut bomb, that fizzes and scatters real pieces of coconut around your bath.

I have just purchased a face mask and lip balm...and a soap....OOOH I CAN'T WAIT!

Toodle pip!

Control Pants

Spanx, Bridget Jones knickers, whatever you want to to call them are just no easy purchase.

For a start, the women in the adverts for them, don't need them, hence them giving a smooth silhouette and no vpl.

If a proper customer was shown in the adverts, the makers might have to rethink their design. 

For starters, they roll down.  If you get them too short, you get a figure of eight thing going on, like you have an elastic band round your waist.  If you buy the higher ones, that come just below your bust, across your ribs, they do indeed, roll down.

You may look and feel great until you sit down and then, like bread rising in an oven, the belly starts to push upwards and all of a sudden, BANG!, the sheer weight of the blubber has burst over the top and with a quick spring of elastic, flopped onto your lap.

My other problem with the design of these 'magic knickers' is that they ain't bloody magic! What spell would anyone cast on themselves to make their evening all about visits to the loo to hoist up the chafing, sausage skin like under garment, so constricting yet useless? 

They are revolting to look at and even more so when they're on but we continue to buy them with the hope that anything that ugly has to work bloody miracles, otherwise, why the fuque would they still be in business?

Yesterday, after deciding to take a pair of size 12 Trinny & Susannah 'wonder pants' back to exchange for a size 10 thong design, I found myself trying to heave on a pair in front of my kids in a changing room that was too small for my stomach, let alone the three of us as well.  Anyway, I could see the expression on my sons face change to a grimace as I heaved and pulled the fat beige pants up and over.  "Are they the pants you really want to buy Mummy"? he questioned, looking like he'd sucked a lemon.  As I went to answer, my daughter SHOUTED from her push chair, "THEY NOT FIT YOU BUM FACE"!

It was a busy Saturday and there were definite sounds of sniggering from the other side of the curtain.

So, I got a refund as they annoyingly, hadn't any tummy controlling thongs.  Just pants, so the bum fat would then become an issue instead!?

Irritatingly, I wobbled home with no control. 

I am sticking to the healthy eating and exercise and am lighter than I have been in 4 years - 11st 6lb but I am trying to make a mole hill out of a mountain and this is not gonna happen in a couple of weeks, (which is when there is an event where I need to wear a figure hugging dress for the first time in 4 years), so I need a solution.

If anyone can help, I'm all ears.....and belly.