So I am sitting here on a Saturday afternoon, feeling more than a little bit sorry for myself. Probably premenstral - but regardless.
I am on holls, stuck at home with no car (the boy's car is in the shop, hence he is using mine)...but come to think of it even if I had the car today there is nothing to do and nowhere to go ...unless one goes shopping that is ...and I think I detest crowded weekend shops only slightly less than the idea of a root canal...plus add to that I am technically supposed to be saving like mad for my first ever house, so shopping really is out of the question. So even if I had the car I would probably still be sat here on my arse feeling ....h'mmm...what exactly am I feeling? Not down perse...or blue..just kinda "blah".
I woke up this morning and was disappointed to learn I have only lost 2lbs this week...after being pretty damn good if I say so myself. Still I have another two days before the official "Monday morning weigh-in". It's maddening how one can gain 5 lbs just at the sight of a box of Milk Tray ...but it takes a bloody fortnight to lose it again. So I treated myself to a luxurious shower. I had picked up a couple of new hair products yesterday at the drug store and was eager to try them out. One promised to make my hair shine like no other and the other promised to make my hair frizz free.
After careful washing and styling I had to admit both products had done exactly as they had promised - I was just horrified to realised I am currently sporting what was known back in the day as a cross between a pageboy and a bob. Add to that it's the same hairstyle more or less as my mother. Don't they warn chaps that all girls turn into their mother's? Seems they were right. This is around the time my daytime blah's settled in. Not that there is anything wrong with mum. Far from it...lovely lady, intelligent, fantastic sense of humour, very independant - to the point of being stubborn....omg I am describing myself....devoted to family (rode 2 buses both ways twice a week to visit her ageing parents), hard working, single mum....ahhhh, yes another thing mum and I share...our singledom. Problem is she's dead. Died at 49. Snuffed out in what was supposed to be the prime of her life. Bugger. So as I am looking in the bathroom mirror at the shiney frizz free hair - looking very Joanna Lumley in a redheaded chubby kind of way and on the verge of turning 40 a cross between Marion Cunningham and Carol Brady...just without all the cutsie husband and happy family stuff ...I wondered is this all there is? I am not ready for sensible shoes and twin-sets ...am I? Feck...who'd date a woman in what my grandmother would call "sensible knickers"? (Despite how comfy they are).
I take my thoughts to the livingroom...after all there's not much else to do today...laundry done, house as clean as it's gonna be and I have already taken a couple of chops out of the freezer for tonight's dinner. A quick perusal of the TV guide shows sod all on... well it is Saturday morning afterall....most normal people - read couples - are out driving their perfect suburban children to their hockey games, or ballet practise...they are doing grocery shopping or browsing the malls. Me? I decide to dig out a few DVD's.
Today's line up includes, Bridget Jones's Diary, The Wedding Date, Hitch, Love Actually and Shall We Dance. Admittedly all chick flicks, all guaranteed to throw me into the depths of ...well let's not go there. Suffice to say it's best not to leave any sharp edged objects nearby at the moment.
So time to settle in with my endless supply of coffee, cats who insist on sitting on my lap and digging in their claws and my latest crochet project. I am not actually any good at crochet - marginally better than I am at knitting...but if I say that all I have actually crochetted so far in my entire life are 4 afghans of varying sizes, you will hopefully realise that my skill level is practically non existant. I once knitted a baby cardigan for my half-sister's first born. The arms were orangutang-ish, armholes so tiny and tight it would have cut off circulation within 20 seconds and I am not 100% certain if the lovely "holey" pattern was exactly pattern perse or dropped stitches. My cousins were wonderful knitters. All three of them. I remember seeing them wearing their creations proudly, wonderfully complex Aran cable patterns. I think I managed a scarf at one point...or rather an over large doiley because it certainly was too short to be draped around anyone's neck.
I get stuck into Bridget Jones, with the marvelous, Renee Zellweger - who has probably never had a "fuck my life sucks" moment in her entire life - when I suddenly realise the entire movie is set on Pride and Prejudice (that classic Jane Austen novel, which I have never actually read, but I saw the movie - god how lame is that?) I actually laugh out loud at a scene where the main character muses that she may end up an ageing, fat, spinster, living with cats, whose only serious relationship is with a bottle of wine and when she dies her body will be discovered in her flat weeks later, half eaten by wild dogs. Yeah, Brig and I share the same flair for the dramatic at times.
So I am killing time watching movies, Jen and I are going to a concert this evening to see Terri Clark. I am not actually a Terri Clark fan, but when Jen phoned me all excited several months ago to say the tickets had gone on sale I agreed to go with her, basically because I had/have nothing better to do. It will actually be my first night out in months, and it beats sitting home all night watching the telly.