How To Lose Weight Without Even Trying.

Ha ha….clickbait much???

So, over the years I have gone through bouts of severe weight loss due to stress. On encountering….well….umm…….people, the conversation generally goes like this:-

‘’Oh my gosh you have lost so much weight, what did you do?”

To which I reply, ‘’nothing, it’s from stress.’’

To which they reply, ‘Oh….. I always put ON weight when I am stressed, no, really, what DID you do?”

The fact that these people think I have discovered some miracle method of losing weight, which I have decided to keep CLASSIFIED, under lock and key in a vault, until I am ready to impart my newfound discovery, is very annoying. Although the fact that they do not believe me is preferable to the other response, which is, ”what are you stressed about?”

Firstly, to these blithering bozos, I say everyone has stress. Secondly, everyone stresses about different things, and in different degrees. But at the end of the day, a Type A personality will find a gazillion things to stress about, including, why there is not currently anything to stress about!!

Just by way of an example, because I am so self aware and sensitive……. those are my “good” traits by the way…. I am constantly doing post-mortems on my social encounters, which drives me and the twelve demons living in my head absolutely looney!!

Generally in my head the post-mortem of any given conversation takes ten times longer than the actual conversation itself took. Maybe I should not have said that…..maybe I should have laughed when saying that….maybe I should NOT have laughed when saying that….hope nobody was offended (mmmmm…… right). Then when I have tried to stay silent to be safe……maybe I should have said something. That then is just the stressful situations I put myself under on a minute by minute basis on a daily basis.

Naturally with this ”stress free” environment we are currently living in, anyone who is not experiencing stress, needs to be bottled and distributed to all stressors….no FDA approval delays necessary. Just distribute, distribute….distribute!!!

I mean….with all this sanitizing going on, my OCD (CDO to be alphabetically correct) has OCD!!

So back to me for a change (she said…tongue in cheek), and the issue of my weight loss since COVID reared its ugly mug. Mind you, if I could talk to people using parentheses after each sentence, in order for my tone to be better understood by the victim I am conversing with, that might solve a lot of my problems. But I can’t, so there is that.

Again….back to me……Firstly, what people don’t see, is that by that time I have lost that type of weight, I am generally underweight. Somewhere along my bloodline line, (I think from my mom), myself and my one brother have very skeletal tops. Our shoulder blades, arms and rib cages can tend to look somewhat emaciated when we are too thin. But with me, I was also ”gifted” with a very solid pair of legs……especially calves!!

Just as a side note…..never one for letting an opportunity to mock his mom go to waste, my son Salt mentioned the other day, that maybe he should try squeeze me like a toothpaste tube… know…roll me up from feet, and perhaps get some of the meat from the bottom to the top, so that I would be evenly distributed. After being slightly offended, I actually thought about how wonderful that would actually be!!

So with my ”solid” lower half, and my oversized clothing covering my skeletal top half, I look like a fairly normal slim somebody. And yet…by that stage, I have generally lost any trace of minerals or vitamins in my unevenly proportioned body, hair, teeth and all my hopes and desires of ageing gracefully…..that ship has so sailed!!

So now that you have a vivid (and dare I say disturbing) description of my appearance post excessive weight loss, you might be wondering why I am choosing to over share as I have. Well, it got me thinking the other day, that actually, it is not stress, but fear and panic which actually leads to this type of weight loss. I stress ALL the time. If it was the stress that caused this type of weight loss, I would look like a carcass permanently.

Generally, when you find yourself in this predicament, the weight literally ”falls off”. It does that within the first few days rapidly, and then continues to do so at a steady pace thereafter. You are not eating less or differently. On the contrary….you are actually eating more, but your ‘’nervous energy’’ is making quick work of the digestion process, and Bob’s your uncle….you have been graced with a fast metabolism. Before you know it, you have dropped a few sizes. I cannot lie….your clothes fit better, you actually feel healthier and stronger.

But to those who now feel like hunting me down as I am sounding like one of those annoying creatures who “forgets to eat’’ or ‘’ just cannot put on weight’’ no matter how much they eat…know this…. this type of weight loss always comes to bite you in your bony butt!!

Eventually things start falling apart, and that is when you realise that your new found weight loss was as a result of something other than some inexplicable gratuity.

I remembered the times I had this happen to me in the past, and each and every time it was not stress, but anxiety, fear and panic. It was when I felt I had no control over something life changing. When the future was uncertain. Yes, of course all our futures are uncertain. But, I am quite capable of misleading myself into believing that I do indeed have control of my future. What’s more, I have mastered this skill like no other. But when something happens that makes me feel like I have no control over what is coming, I panic like no other.

That is when one always has to start putting oneself back together. It normally involves a gazillion vitamins and minerals, visits to the dentist, untold hours of Googling as to what can be done about hair loss……NOTHING…… and an attempted reconstruction of whatever else was lost in the process. Unfortunately, each time this happens, there is a certain amount of irreparable damage done to your body and psyche.

So how does one avoid this? Well…… can’t………unless one resorts to medication, which drains you of feeling anything emotionally….so this ‘’one’’ will not even consider going down that road.

Any personality Type B to Z, as well as those fortunate enough to have not been faced with a scary situation (if anyone like that even exists), might never even have experienced this feeling of fear and terror. But sista, if you be a Type A AND you have suffered some kind of shock……you are buggered.

You see, we do this to ourselves. I mean every living being suffers from some type of shock at least once in a lifetime. However they manage to deal with it differently. You don’t see every part of their Temple falling apart and crumbling into little anxiety ridden pieces, do you?? No…nope…those freaks of nature just deal with what life throws them by using all their sense and sensibilities that they were given. Hate those people!!!

So, next time someone asks me how I lost so much weight, I will just tell them I forget to eat!!

Selective Information Processing – Trying To Stay Sane Amongst The Lunacy!!!

Me Staying In Lala Land

Now, for anyone who knows me well enough, they know two of my many…..uumm…quirks are, firstly, I have OCD issues, and secondly, I tend to overcomplicate things at times. So, by way of an example, I am so organized, that my spreadsheets tend to have spreadsheets, which then just leads me to be more confused than if I had no spreadsheets at all!! And then what ultimately ensues is death by spreadsheets!!

This lunacy extends to any technology that I use. So my email messages are read…promptly, and either deleted, or get put into a relevant folder. My deleted folder is cleared on the daily!! Same principle with my text messages, recycle bins and so on.

Of course, this gives rise fairly often, to me suddenly needing to revert back to a previous email or text…..but wait….DELETED. You would think that if this happens often enough, old numb nut over here would not delete things so hastily. But nooooooo……cannot have things clogging up our folders can we???

So to get to the topic at hand, my WhatsApp messages on my phone. Now I ask you to try keep up, as just the thought of what I am about to write, gets me thinking that I am going to confuse the hell out of you. But I may be wrong. So, previously (until yesterday actually), you had your ‘’Message Folder’’, in which all your messages appeared. Then you (or more particularly I), could read, not read, delete (and then permanently delete), let well alone or archive the message. Obviously I am the person, of which it seems has become a rare breed, who ALWAYS opens my messages… I see them…..immediately. It is plain rude not to. It is probably ruder to open the message and not reply, but I so seldom do that anyway. I just do not reply when I realize that replying would be more savage to the person that would read my reply, than just not replying at all.

Taking it one step further, I clean up my technology on the daily. So anyone who would not fall under a daily chat, was archived. It was always an internal struggle not to just delete the periodic chats, but I just found it more user friendly (well, if I am the user), to keep them archived.

I am currently living in a part of the world going through a third wave of COVID, which is way scarier, more frightening and closer to home than either the first or the second wave. Everyone knows someone that knows someone who has either been, or is currently infected with this plague! Some are riding the storm, others are in hospital and there are those that have passed away.

So this of course is a total fodder for my panic disorder.

Apparently, the processing of information involves three stages: Firstly, collecting the information. Secondly, storing the information, and thirdly, retrieving the information. I have got better at identifying whether I want to store and/or retrieve information in the collection stage!! When I detect that it is going to negatively affect my emotional well being, I just stick to stage1.

Probably not the first time that I have mentioned that I have a friends message group. This group has been going for over fifteen years and comprises of ten members.

Now, this group used to be my happy place. It had its own message tone (heaven forbid I missed out on ANY message on this group), and on hearing the tone, everything (and I mean EVERYTHING), came to an abrupt halt. This so I could get a bit of happy energy to carry on with the rest of my day. I laughed out loud….often…. at the crazy messages. We behaved like a bunch of mad bats on the daily. Unfortunately, especially since the start of COVID, this group has become my anxious place. These girls absolutely feed off drama and morbid news. Because I let things affect me so deeply, I do not need (or even want) to know about some person’s auntie twice removed who is in hospital or has passed away. The people you hear about that are known to you, or close to you, is more than enough for my fragile emotions to handle. At the moment, ten members, third wave….you do the math.

Ironically enough, they are all fighting to share their morbid tales, yet they are also able to totally disconnect and carry on with a some lighthearted and feel good conversation in seconds. It is almost like listening to a newscast, where the presenters impart news of the world, and then move on to the feel good story of the day. Perhaps others can remain level-headed and unaffected by all the toxic and morbid chat being spewed out incessantly, but I am incapable of doing so.

So I have chosen to mute my friends group, a group that was previously my happy place. No longer!! MUTED!! And just for extra measure….ARCHIVED!!

Now, until yesterday, archiving the group did not solve the problem in its entirety, as if any message was posted on the group, it automatically reappeared in your normal folder. So, when you click on to read other messages, there it is…in all its glory…. and then you see 20 or 30 unread messages, which means that at least one person has definitely mentioned that they know someone who has COVID, or how terrible our government is, or what a mess our country is in, or how overloaded our hospitals are etc, etc, and every member then jumps in to partake in the barrage of scary, morbid and depressing messages…or with their own new bit of news, which in turn leads to another 20 or 30 messages, and before you know it, there can literally be 50+ unread messages. In the space of ten minutes.

The problem was, that somewhere in the tightest corner of my smallest brain cell, I would think maybe something important about one of my friends has been mentioned, and that there I was, oblivious to it. So what I did was then open the group, scan through the messages, just to make sure that the ten members and their nearest and dearest were fine, and then feel totally depressed and gutted and wanna kick myself sideways and upside down for doing so, swearing I would not make that same mistake again!!

So the solution for me, was to send one of my friends a private message just asking them to give me a heads up, if there was anything that I would need to know.

A while back, I had not been on my phone for a few hours, and when I went into my messages, there were unread messages from about 6 people. So, in opening and reading the messages, I ERRONEOUSLY opened this Grim Reaper Group (‘’GRG’’). I only realized I had done so after I had read a couple of messages, which naturally were messages that had me wanting to slit my wrists. At first I thought, another group to mute?? But then realized I was on the GRG, at which point, like a two year old child, I shut my eyes tight and got out of that group faster than you could say ‘’get out’’…. Mature innit??

However, from yesterday, the algorithms, Siri, cyber monsters….whoever is in charge of us guinea pigs….changed my messages so that archived chats REMAIN in Archives. Brilliant, exactly what I have been asking for (in my head), for months. But, you know how they say ‘’be careful what you wish for’’? Well…yes, now my problem is, because of all my archived chats, if someone who is archived sends a message, their chat STAYS IN ARCHIVES!! No tone, no fart, no nothing to give me notice that the message has come through. So I do not see the message UNLESS I CHECK MY ARCHIVES FOLDER!!

I immediately started sending all my archived chats (excluding the GRG chat) to my normal folder, and then realized that this would just not do! It PAINS me to open my chats and see 16 names staring at me in the face. So, there I was, sending all my previously archived chats back to archives.

This led me to thinking…..would it just not be easier to read the f*&îng GRG chats?? Well, probably easier, but way too depressing.

And you thought it was easy being me!!!

My Brother Max…May You Live Forever!

I prefer not to directly refer to specific or living people in my Blogs….well other than me, myself and I….OBVIOUSLY….oh, and then there are my children…Salt and Pepper….but they don’t count. I have done enough for them in their lives for the Bill of Rights not to apply under my roof!! I try keep the content vague, as I feel it is inappropriate to refer to people directly…..almost an invasion of privacy if you will. So, instead, I sometimes write something offensive about a person, or a group of people, but discreetly…. without being specific….. and if they identify themselves in my blogs……well…….

Now when it comes to my youngest of 3 older brothers, it does make it slightly easier, as the nutter does not go by his birth name. No…..nope, he has (for as long as I can remember), gone by the name ”Max”. Where that originated from, I know has a long and undoubtedly hilarious story attached to it. I also know that I have been told this story, but I am the safest person to tell your deepest darkest secrets to, as I just forget everything anyway. But with my brother Max, I should be excused, as there are tons of hilarious stories about his colourful past, and I could surely not be expected to remember them all!!

Now, because I know my brother so well, I know that he would be extremely touched by the fact that I am even calling him Max. I am the only person I know, who has flat out never called him Max….as that is not his name….and I don’t roll like that….for no good reason whatsoever!! And I also know, that his love for me is so unconditional, that despite my stubborn behaviour, he has totally excused this, or more importantly, accepted this.

This is but only one of many times that he has excused my unacceptable behaviour. You see Max and I are….well….chalk and cheese (already secured the copyright for Salt and Pepper….but same idea!!) Actually I do not like that analogy……let’s say you want a scoop of ice cream. If you got me, you would get a scoop of Vanilla. If you got Max, you would get Rocky Road, Rum and Raisin, Mint Crisp, Fudge Popsicle and the yet to be discovered Beetroot, Oregano and Curry, all rolled into one scoop and topped with sprinkles……and cumin!! But by the same token, there is a surprisingly miniscule amount of my flavour in Max’s scoop, and vice versa. So, what I am trying to say is, Max has always been tolerant of my traits that are poles apart from his. He has not only been tolerant, but patient, forgiving and accepting. Are you starting to see where Max and I could not be more different if we tried??

Now as different as Max and I are from one another, each one of us 4 siblings are different. But where Max and I bear many similarities, is in our belief systems. We both want to save the world. We both want peace and love for all. We both believe the socio economic systems in the world are unfair and unjust. We are both very passionate about equality and human rights. But the integral difference comes in where Max selflessly does everything he can do to make a difference to all of these situations. He always has. I, on the other hand, just destroy my soul thinking about these things, but selfishly do what , when and if I can.

Until a few years ago, this behaviour of Max’s used to upset and frustrate me. I felt he acted irresponsibly, was lazy and wanted to live in a world that just was not attainable. I was frustrated with him, impatient, probably condescending, but most of all intolerant of him. I just believed that as much as his intentions were good, they were irresponsible. I could not understand how he could always work just enough to get paid what he needed to survive, so that he had time to save the world. He was blessed with oodles of smarts, talents and creativity, and that made it even harder for me to accept.

He really did try to explain himself to his judgemental family many years ago, and what his plans were for his future. Of course, with a family full of Vanillas, we thought he was up a pole, and did not entertain his ”lunacy”. In retrospect I believe, that he was trying so hard to make us see what he saw, that he tried to structure his presentation (yes…there was a presentation once) to conform to our Vanilla mentality. But he is not Vanilla, and hence it really did come across as sheer lunacy. Had he just spoken his truth, we MIGHT have been more understanding….but probably not.

Please do not think for a moment that he is too good to be true. Far from it. We also bear similarities in our sarcastic, snarky and intolerant natures. He is very stubborn and has a temper, which surfaces here and there. We are both self deprecating, have moments where we fantasise about beating the sense into somebody…….or the crap out of them. But with all those “inherited from my dad” traits, Max is, LITERALLY, the funniest and most sharp- witted person I have ever encountered. We have over the years had endless get togethers where my body literally hurts from laughing.

I think that over the years, most people who had known him began to accept him for who he was….even if they did not appreciate him for who he was. I am ashamed to say, that it took me longer than most. I just spent all those years trying to save him….change him……make him ”normal”. In retrospect, why would I possibly have wanted to do that?? He did not want or need me to save him. I was just so fearful that he would one day wake up (too late) with regrets, and realise he should have done things differently in order to have lived an easier and happier existence.

It was only a few years back, that I realised he WAS happy. The fact that I did not think I would have been happy with the life he had made for himself, was none of my concern. He was happy….I was not….go figure. Not only was he happy, he was making others happy…….growled at others. Sure there have been (and still are) many who think he is batsh&%* crazy or annoying . But he doesn’t care. To those people he just becomes more batsh&%* crazy or annoying, and then sits back and enjoys their rage.

He has never asked for anything. If it is offered, he will take it, but invariably pay it forward anyway. He has spread sparkles and fairy dust wherever he has gone (sometimes literally), and still only wants one thing… save the world.

Unlike me, who wants to save the world, but realises I cannot, and am not sure if I have the time or resources to do it, questions the attainability and sacrifices of it all, he chooses to go ahead anyway! And although he might not be able to save the world (or any part of it), he has certainly touched the lives of so many in giving it his best shot!!

The reason I am choosing to write about this now, is because tomorrow is promised for no one. But with Max, it is promised a little less. He has been battling with emphysema for many years now, and unfortunately it is a degenerative disease which just continues to deteriorate.

In true Max style, he recently held a sibling conference call (code for family meeting post COVID), where he has assured us that he is okay, happy and loving life. He has no regrets, and is ready to leave us whenever it is his time. He continues to spread his love and light, even if more remotely, and continues to be a better person than most.

Over the years, as with most families, we have not seen each other as much as we could have. But he has always shown up when necessary (even if I did not think it was necessary at the time), would drop everything when it was necessary, and given me much love, laughter and light…..and of course his tolerance!

So to my brother Max….I say to you…. forgive me for all those wasted and intolerant years of mine, where I failed to see your light. Although, I really need not ask for your forgiveness, as I know you understood it at the time anyway.

Luv you bruv….may you live forever.

Out of the Mouth of an Anti Vaxxer Who Has Received Her First Vaccine.

So here I am, writing about the most talked about topic in the world currently….the *&^%# COVID vaccine. In February I posted a blog entitled “To Vaccinate or Not to Vaccinate? This Is the Question!!” I was (and still am) very skeptical of the vaccine. When writing that blog in February, the possibility of having to make a decision seemed so far in the distant future…..and yet… we are.

I had no idea back then, that there would be such a huge dissension between the pros and the antis. I had no idea that there would be so many antis either.

At that stage, I really assumed that I was going to be one of the very few antis. Historically, my viewpoints are not those of the throng. I am sure many assume that I am just trying to be ”different” or ‘difficult’’. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Life would be so much easier if I did indeed just follow that throng! My question is….why am I different or difficult if I don’t follow the throng? I question things. I do not take things at face value. I do not see that as ”different”. I see that as NORMAL, in fact essential!!!

By the time the decision needed to be made, my mindset was still very much the same. I was literally more petrified of getting the vaccine than of getting COVID. Before you go to ”ha ha magnetic chip etc”, let me just say….no….don’t go there. Stop using those conspiracy theorists as a blanket to ridicule the anti vaxxers!! That rebuttal is just getting old and tired.

In any social interaction leading up to ”V Day”, I felt I had needed to justify my decision to all and sundry. People made me feel like I alone would be the reason that we would be stuck with COVID for an eternity. It came to a point where I debated lying to people and just telling them I was going to get the vaccine. But you know me……just speak my truth……… life would be so much easier if I could prevent myself from doing that too!!

There were mutterings in the corridors at work that they were going to make it compulsory. I was paranoid. So of course I spent the next few weeks obsessing on how I was going to argue my case to my employers.

In the meantime these groups of pros and antis were getting larger and larger and moving further apart.

The logical argument, to ALL the judgey pros, would have been first and foremost, to bring to their attention that the vaccine does not PREVENT you from getting COVID. To be honest, at that early stage, not everyone knew that. If the vaccine prevented you from getting COVID, I could still give these angry pros’ thought processes the benefit of the doubt. I would then understand why employers were considering making it compulsory, or why some thought it was acceptable to tell others what to do with their bodies and lives.

So there I was trying to explain to all the nudges and prodders that they needed to stop ridiculing and criticizing people that were anti, as these people are not objecting because they want to irritate anyone, be different, liberal or cause harm to others. They were objecting because they were terrified of the long term effects of the vaccine.

Furthermore, it should not affect them in anyway if some choose not to get vaccinated. The fact that the person next to you has not been vaccinated is no different to the person next to you who has been vaccinated. THEY COULD BOTH HAVE COVID!!! In fact are the imprudent vaccinated people (and there will be tons of those), that feel ‘’safe’’ because they have been vaccinated, and do not feel the need to socially distance, wear a mask or sanitize, NOT MORE OF A RISK TO YOU?????

Apparently you can still contract the virus but you will not die from it. So, if you have so much faith in this vaccine, why are you trying to bully people into having it? It will make absolutely no difference if Joe Shmo has been vaccinated or not. You are vaccinated…you are the chosen ones…you will be fine….will you not??

But unfortunately the anger and bitterness towards these antis just keeps growing and gets uglier.

So after realizing that this would not be the best approach to take with my employers, and assuming that their only possible reason for making it compulsory, was that they were trying to protect themselves from having their staff body on sick leave a lot, (which they still would have, even if the staff was all vaccinated), I decided to approach my employers and explain to them that if I needed to take any leave due to COVID it could be unpaid.

Now the talk amongst my friends was a resounding YES to getting the vaccine. Except for my person, who was going to sit with me in the back of the queue, until the last surviving human had received the vaccine, so that we could have time to assess the short and long term repercussions of the insufficiently tried and tested poison being injected into our temples.

Once our age group opened up, all my friends (including my person….traitor) were like lambs to a slaughter….so excited to go and get vaccinated…… could not get there fast enough. You would have thought they were off on their annual holiday. Photos being posted on social media, What’s App messages….they felt they had done their bit to eradicate this dreaded plague!!

I continued with my inner demons debating back and forth 24/7, and was being lectured and reprimanded by some, and gently nudged by others.

Anyway, after a close friend of mine’s sister passed away from COVID, who was a few years younger than me and had no pre-existing conditions, I suddenly thought that if this is going to be just killing people willy-nilly like this, then damned if you do and damned if you don’t. This on the same day coupled with my brother from Canada gently nudging me to have the vaccine, as well as a friend expressing shock and horror that I was not going to get the vaccine.

So my demons declared a truce, and I decided to go ahead with the vaccine. In some way it was a huge sense of relief that I was at peace with it.

Everything seemed to indicate that I had made the right decision, as the next day I went into work and asked the lady in HR what the procedure was in order to register. She said that everyone who was over the age of 50 had already been registered by the Company. Clearly then, they were intending on making it compulsory, and I was even more relieved that I had already made the decision myself.

I did not even have time to ponder as the next day I arrived at work, and one of my colleagues said we were booked for 9h30. So off we went, and there we were met by this no nonsense, sassy talking nurse, who was having none of my questions or concerns, and pretty much was exactly what I needed to get this job done. In fact I even thanked her afterwards about her brilliant she was, and how I needed that firm attitude

So of course I got this sore arm that I had heard so much about which didn’t bother me at all. That night I started feeling slightly nauseous, and then when I was having my bath, felt so nauseous that I struggled to get out of the bath, but did not connect this to the vaccine, as I had not heard that nausea was any kind of a symptom. But that was the last of the extreme nausea.

The only reason I connected the nausea to the vaccine at a later stage, was because one of my very pro friends was ridiculing me about my initial skepticism. She said, ‘’you see, you are fine. I was absolutely fine, my arm was barely sore, and I experienced none of the nausea that I was warned about by the nurse.’’ Ummmm…..okaaaaay…..but I decided that if it was just the sore arm and the one and only encounter with such extreme nausea I could deal with that. Of course this opened the floodgates for everyone to throw jabs (excuse the pun) at me by saying things like ”did your cell phone stick to you yet?” or ”so you had it, and you are still alive”, etc, etc.

Their complete lack of understanding of my fear made me realize that the pros were just not going to even TRY and understand the legitimate fear of the antis.

At some point after I was vaccinated I developed a rash, which only became apparent to me when I got into a bath and it was stinging….. a lot. At no point did I even think about a connection to the vaccine. But on Facebook one day someone asked if anyone knows anyone who had developed shingles after having the first or second vaccination. There were hundreds of comments from people that had, to the point that for my own sanity, I exited the link and tried to unsee it. Whether it was a mild dose of shingles or not, this rash appeared only after my vaccination…so you do the math.

So yes I have started to become a bit more concerned about the second vaccine. I have heard that people had felt quite ill after the second shot, even though they had not after the first, but again I just decided ……I had come this far….

So last week when I was taking my walk, I noticed that my knees were hurting me for the first few laps. I had never experienced this before and just started put it down to the start of arthritis or other age-related curse.

A few days later, one of my friends who had received her second vaccine a few weeks prior, (a complete pro vaxxer), mentioned that since she had her second vaccination, her knees were so painful, that she could just be sitting and experience the pain. She said that they were not like that before she had been vaccinated. Thankfully my pain was not as severe, but I immediately made the connection to my vaccination.

Now, of course my demons have returned!

Although I probably will have the second (and third…only heard about that after my first), and unless something shows me to the contrary, I will never be a pro, and will forever understand and respect the antis.

Let’s all try give them that, at the very least……let’s just all stay in our lanes!!!!


How to Apply Eye Wings for over 50’s!

When I started re-blogging, I still had the mindset of my earlier days…those days when I blogged, but it was not called blogging…….just writing! It was around 20 years ago…….I was a young mother with young children, and had decided that I was going to educate the world about how difficult and life changing having a baby was. I was going to burst every misinformed bubble that the media and other parents had blown. I, single handily, was going to bring down the cases of post natal depression……..aka ”I am a bad mother whose child hates me, and who doesn’t know what I am doing like all those other mothers loving life and navigating motherhood so seamlessly”!!

So, perhaps if I had realised, on starting to write again, that 20 years had passed, I might have gone more with the theme of getting older and telling the world honestly about how bloody awful THAT is!!

Reading that back it seems there is a common thread running through my writings……it’s awful….whatever it is. Oh how fortunate are all those souls who have had me touch their lives…….

Aaaaaaanyway, now, 20 years later, my version of being a mother to young children in this day and age is pretty much obsolete!! I mean, yes……it is surely still an unpleasant experience, this new, first time mother thing is, but there is so much more honesty out there. You are no longer regarded as a repulsive and shameful human being by society, if you are not loving every minute of motherhood! Young mothers are more prepared for the fact that it is not going to be only rainbows and unicorns when they become mothers! They hear of other mothers going through struggles, and pooping and farting (the mothers, not the babies) about their lives. This is good!! This is honest!!

To be honest, if I was to be blogging about the truth of raising children in this era, what with all the social media demons and technological advances, I would surely be sent directly to Blog Prison!! Eeeeek…..I shudder to think!! Tis true, there would be an endless stream of content for blogging…but nope…not worth it!!

So although I have raised children, who are now adults….kinda, sorta….okay, jury still deliberating….. I am not qualified to give any opinions or suggestions on how to bring up children in this day and age. Sisters….you are on your own. Go forth and conquer, and may the force be with you!!

So back to the actual topic at hand…..big digresser I am….

There I was this morning, applying my make-up (a new project of mine)….. in order to make myself look 20 years (or even 5 would be good) younger, and I suddenly realised my blogs really should not be about bringing up children anymore, as my children have been brought up…kinda, sorta….and whatever the end result is, is what it is…period!! I should rather be making myself useful, and be preparing people for their ”mature years”!!

So, back to makeup (for the mature woman). When I was younger, I was never one for makeup…..some eyeliner at the most. You know, when you are all young and fresh faced, and you walk past a mirror and think, oh come on just be daring, and splash an eensy weensy something on your face for good measure? I was also never one of those girls who was looking for a wolf whistle or any attention when walking past a whole group of boys. In fact, if anything that would have had me crawling into the nearest hole. Although at my age, a wolf whistle here and there would not completely ruin my day……..oh how times have changed!!

Mind you, my generation of girls were not really make up mad. Unfortunately the young girls of today, for the most part, pack on that make up so thick, that they all land up looking like clones of one another….with different hair colours. Pretty much like the girls in their 30’s and 40’s, who Botox, lift, tuck and all look like they have been cast from the same mold……with different hair colour.

However, when you are but a teen, this is when you least need make up. You look so gorgeous fresh-faced and natural. But no matter whether you are pro or anti excessive use of make up, one thing is for sure….. when that makeup GLIDES on youthful skin, oh my goodness it is smooth like butter!!

Now, applying make up after 50, having had no botox or nips and tucks, is a whole other scenario. Firstly, one has to apply it as if one was applying paint to a roughly plastered wall… know, second coat required, to get into the crevices and craters. Secondly, all those POTHOLES that you are attempting to cover up, are then HIGHLIGHTED by the makeup that you have applied. So, essentially, you look like……..….well…………a fifty something year old, who is trying to look younger, but actually looks like an old haggard and washed up she-pirate!!

Then we have the ”wings” technique with eye makeup. This is to create the illusion of bigger eyes…you know, something NO youthful eyes actually need, but ALL old and haggardy eyes do!! So, again, another cruel joke, this technique is so simple to apply on youthful eyes..…..glides I tell you….like butter!! It is applied, and there it shall remain….intact….until removed by the wearer. But over 50….ha….ha ha….cruel, cruel joke!! What essentially takes place with the ”more mature” (old haggard she-pirate), is a series of steps which have to be undertaken.


Due to the fact that her eyesight is declining, if she is a contact lens user, she cannot have them inserted. If she does, she then needs reading spectacles IN ADDITION TO the contact lenses, to see something that is a nose length away from her old haggard face. Obviously, she cannot be wearing the spectacles while applying make up to her eyes!! If she is not a prescription lens or spectacle user, she would definitely need the assistance of reading specs to see anything too close. Again, at this point, she cannot wear spectacles while applying make up to her eyes….again….obviously!!

So, the first step involves holding a hand mirror in the one hand, slowly drawing it into her face, and once the mirror lightly touches the nose, she will know the distance is correct. Thereafter, she has to use her ONE remaining hand to reach for whatever object she is using to apply the wings, generally liquid liner, sometimes an eyeliner pencil. Liquid liner is preferable, but as you can imagine, creates a whole new set of problems, what with having to remove the liner brush from the bottle ALL WITH ONE HAND!!


Once the remaining hand is holding the object required, she has to then use a finger from……well..…one of her both occupied hands..…to gently lift the drooping skin around the ageing eyes, in order to begin applying the wing where it should ordinarily be applied on droop free youthful eyes. This step is the final step where, believe it or not, a brief glance in the mirror actually produces fairly pleasing results. It is at this time, that the she-pirate thinks that there is indeed some fraction of hope that she can look young and gorgeous again.


During this step, the mirror needs to be placed down, freeing the one hand, so that there is an available hand to replace the lid or brush of the liner. It is at this time, that the remaining finger, which was so strategically placed to elongate the ageing eye, gets removed……and all hell breaks loose. The eye tumbles forth to its original position, and the wing then looks like a dotted line of zig zag horrors.

And don’t even get me started on 50-somethings and exercise………………