The Subject Of Selfies

Reasons I rarely take selfies: 

• I have a dinosaur phone with a flip case. Apparently it's a 'mum' thing. I thought it was just a broke economical thing. Silly me. 
• I AM a dinosaur. Consequently I can't take a decent photo to save my life. And I use idiotic expressions like 'can't take a photo to save my life'.
• Duck face selfies are stupid. Related: they should be called cat's bum selfies instead. See above.
• I don't like my double chin. Okay, chins.
• I have no idea where I put my selfie stick... Hmmmm....
• My house is quite...shall we say... lived in... Nobody needs to see that.
• My life revolves around trips to Aldi and the doctor. Riveting. These occasions don't exactly strike me selfie opportunities.
• My fashion style is basically described as 'whatever still fits'. So, yeah. Nothing to show there.
• I'm told I can be quite negative. Pffft. Can't imagine why. So I don't really get into the whole hashtag blessed etc phenomenon.

Reasons I probably could (I won't say should) take selfies sometimes:

• Nobody cares about my double chins besides me, and if they do, screw them.
• My children might actually want to remember me one day, despite their current vehement antipathy to featuring in any photos with me on social media.
• If I ever become a missing person or a murder victim, the authorities will have to use a dated image of me, such as the one of my bald noggin when I had chemo. On the plus side, I was assured that I have a lovely shaped head. Related: I may have been listening to too many true crime podcasts...
• Last time I posted a selfie on Facey I had several people comment on how GORGEOUS I am. They were probably just blowing smoke up my arse, but I don't get many compliments, so I'll take it.
• Taking a selfie, however bad, might be a good distraction when I'm feeling wobbly (ie anxious) when out and about.
• Who says you have to be good at everything you do? Just do it anyway. Perfect is boring. I'd never do anything if I had that attitude. Oh wait...
• I recently had a haircut and I have finally lost the frizz! It's now just wavy but not frizzy. Okay, that's not that exciting to anyone else but me. I can finally get a brush through it again! YAY! 

So I should probably end this with a selfie, but I'm wearing an alluring combo of track suit pants and a purple Best & Lest jumper that's seen better days. Actually, I lie. It never had better days. It was always hideous. I think your mental picture should be sufficient. You're welcome.

But I will 'get in the picture' at some point...

Over and out.

Do you take selfies? What is the best way to disguise double chins? 

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Ideal Meal

 Greetings!

Here I am again. Back to talk about one of my favourite topics: FOOD!

So what is my ideal meal, you ask? 

These days, my ideal meal would have to be almost anything I don't have to cook. It's frightfully rude how I am expected to do so every single night. HMPH.

But since I like to eat every day, I do get on with it and manage to produce something vaguely edible. They're not necessarily 'ideal' or 'favourite' meals, but they're good enough. 

My actual favourites would have to be anything cooked by my mum. Especially her roasts and desserts, including her infamous apple pie.

Other than that, I do enjoy a good lobster mornay. However, I never cook it, because I'm quite terrible at making things like mornay sauce. Consequently I haven't had this delicacy in YEARS.

I find such meals are best enjoyed with a good bottle of wine. Also; dessert afterwards. There's always room for dessert! 

There I am, above. enjoying some lobster mornay with a glass of wine. It was such a long time ago I do not remember where this photo was taken. I suspect in was way back in the grand and glorious pre-children days. It seems like a parallel universe now. We actually went on nice relaxing holidays and ate at lovely restaurants that didn't serve chicken nuggets. Those were the days. Sigh.

Of course, I couldn't get through this post without mentioning my beloved cakies. They may not be considered a meal exactly, but as I mentioned above, there's always room for dessert.

On the other hand, if I want to have cake for breakfast, why not? Yep, I am literally one of those disgusting people who could seriously eat cake for breakfast. No surprise that I struggle with my weight and cholesterol levels. Oops. 

I mean, I don't eat cake for breakfast. Well, most of the time I don't...  But I could.  Well, what is the difference between having cake or pancakes or waffles? They're all so so bad and so so GOOD. If you know what I mean. 

So there you are. Just a short and sweet serving from me, because my brain seems to not be working and I can't get the words right. 

Conclusion:  My ideal meal would involve a roast or lobster mornay and cakies. When you say that all together in one sentence, it confirms what I already suspected: I am gross and disgusting. 

Over and out. 

What about you?

Are you gross and disgusting?

Uh I mean, what is your ideal meal? 

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About Being The Baby (With Bonus Dilly Dallying)

Hello again, dear and delightful people. Okay, person. There must be at least one person reading out there. I hope...

 And I can say you're delightful because you're inside the computer. This makes it SO much easier. I don't even have to get dressed, although I am. Badly. See? Easier all round. I can wear awful clothes and your eyeballs are spared that atrocity. 

Anyway, on with the show. Or the blog post. You know what I mean... 

This popped up in my Facebook memories this morning:

It made me realise that I am quite fond of a bit of dilly dallying. I do it here all the time, popping in and out at my fancy.  Nothing wrong with that, right?

But I'm here now, so let's get on with it. I'm wondering if my propensity towards dilly dallying has anything to do with my birth order? I was the baby of the family. I have one older brother.

The first thing I discover when I google birth order is, the stereo-type for the 'baby' of the family is being a free spirit, a risk taker and charming. Well yes, I am quite charming in my own way. Aren't I?

But as for the other two - forgeddaboutit! I am definitely not a risk taker, at any rate.

Meanwhile, I did go on to have three children of my own, despite being a hard core introvert. Hmmmm, maybe I AM a risk taker? 

Anyway, what I was going to say was,  I didn't really think 'middle child syndrome' was  a thing until I had three children.  All I am going to tactfully say is, my middle child and my youngest have an interesting relationship. It could certainly be described as love/hate at times. It can be quite difficult and complicated to navigate as a parent. 

I remember watching The Brady Bunch as a kid. It was always Jan and Peter, the middle siblings, who seemed to be having a permanent identity crisis.  The Brady Bunch is a totally credible, realistic and cutting edge show to use as a reference. Or something. Okay, maybe not. But I just like to bring up a random daggy pop culture reference, because that's how I roll. Deal with it. 

Incidentally, my 'baby', aka Mr 8, is off on his first ever overnight camp tonight. I did find myself becoming considerably more anxious about this fact than I remember being for the other two. Are we inclined to be more over protective towards the youngest child? On the other hand, there is also the theory that by the time you get to number three you're much more... ahem...relaxed...

Thinking about it, I guess it would have been interesting for me had my parents decided to have more children. That would have made me the middle child.  Evidently my mum was firm in her decision to only have two children, so I stayed the 'baby'. To this day I am still a mummy's (and daddy's) girl. I am not sure how much of this is due to my birth order or my personality. I've always been shy, quiet and introverted. And, as it turned out, autistic. But I didn't know about the latter growing up.

Oh! Random segue: I suddenly recalled a funny incident when we brought my second born son home from the hospital. His brother, then Mr 3, suggested to me that we could put him in the bin and the garbage truck would come and get him! So there was definitely a bit of jealousy going on at the beginning. They're good buddies now, thankfully.

And I think that is all I have to say about birth order. The conclusion: I have no idea. But this 'baby' still likes dilly dallying. I'm off to do so right now. 

What about you?

What is your birth order? Do you think it effects your personality?

Are you a middle child? Or a dilly dallyer? 

Have I asked enough pointless questions? Should I throw in one more? 


Someone make me stop asking questions...

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I Can't Live Without...

Hey. It's me. Yep, I'm still here. 

I haven't felt like checking in here recently. To be honest, I'm struggling yet again with the wobbles and I don't want to bore everyone with it. Nothing dramatic has happened. It just sneaks up on me now again, because it's pesky like that. Anyway, as I said...it's frightfully tedious...yawwwwn.... 

Oh yeah, and it's also been confirmed via a blood test that I am indeed menopausal. So I guess it's understandable that my moods might be a bit all over the place. Sigh. 

I am doing all the things I need to do to get some equilibrium back. Seeing a shrink, exercise, medication. Blah blah blah... But it all takes time.  And I will get there eventually. So I might pop in and out of this space if and when I feel like it. I'm just trying to not give myself too many things to think about at the moment. 

So in order to keep it simple, here's a quick and to the point list of the things I cannot live without: 

1. Oxygen.
2. Water.
3. Food.
4. CAKIES!
5. Chocolate.
6. Tea.
7. Books.
8. Music.
9. Peace and quiet/solitude.
10. Oh yeah, my family are pretty great, too. 
11. Exercise. 
12. Writing. 

Yep, I'm doing my usual Captain Obvious with numbers 1, 2 and 3. Or perhaps it's the 'literal interpretation' thing that us ASD folk are supposed to be known for...

Also, technically numbers 4 and 5 fall into the same category as number 3, but whatever.  I COULD live without 4 and 5, but I don't want to! I basically have the maturity of a three year old. I want my cake/chocolate and I want it NOW.  

And as far as number 11 and 12 go, I am definitely inclined to be lazy and avoid those things.  But when I DO do them, I really do feel better. So they are staying on my list.  And that is final. 

Okay, I'm done here for now. 

What about you? 

What can't you live without? 

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Taking Stock - July Edition

Making: A mess. I'm so skilled at this. It's a gift, I tell you! 

Cooking: My signature dish. It's called: Whatever's In The Fridge. Or my other gourmet creation, imaginatively titled: Eat It And Shut Up. 

Drinking: Waaaaaaaay too much tea. A little coffee and wine. And some water. Boiled, with a teabag and a dash of skim milk added... Okay, more tea. What can I tell you. It's a terrible addiction. 

Reading: I just finished reading a so-called romantic suspense novel. It was shit. Is it just me or does there seem to be this cliche in thrillers where the killer always turns out to be the 'quiet/shy/introvert/awkward type? Shits me to tears. Most of us quiet folk can't handle any confrontation or raise our voices let alone kill some one. Lift your game, thriller authors!  

Trawling: Drawers and washing baskets looking for that most elusive of things known to humankind: matching socks. WHERE do all the odd socks go? Related: my feet are FREEZING. 

Wanting: A cure for cancer. Also; anxiety. A magic diet pill, a jumbo sized bottle of wine with a funnel, warm feet (see above), a good lie down, a kick up the bum and approximately seven million dollars in crisp one hundred dollar bills. Not to much to ask, is it? 

Looking: For inventive ways to stay warm. And sane. Any suggestions?

Deciding: Whether to have yet another cup of tea. Pfffft. The decision (meaning the actual cup of tea...) was already made. 

Wishing: That all the good and groovy folk didn't have to suffer while ass holes walk around unscathed.

Enjoying: Reading, cups of tea, cuddles with Mr 8, snuggling in bed with the electric blanket on a frosty winter's evening. You know, all the simple little pleasures in life.

Waiting: Tragically, I am often waiting for pesky old anxiety to pass. But it ALWAYS does. That is the key thing to remember. 

Liking: The fact that I seem to be getting into regular exercise again... But I'm almost too scared to say it, because every time I publicly announce these things I fail spectacularly. So I had better shut up.  Shhhhh, don't tell anyone! 

Wondering: Why it is so incredibly difficult for me to warm my feet in winter. Everyone always tells me it's 'easy' to get warm in winter. Meanwhile, my feet are blocks of ice.  With thick socks and ugg boots on sitting in front of a heater. Gah.

Loving: That's it's school holidays. Sleep-ins FTW! I'm sure this will change very quickly by the week's end.

Pondering: This and that. 

Listening: To the hum of the heater and a car in the distance.

Considering: Things that I am not going to announce here because... Well, see: Liking. Nuff said. 

Buying: Lots of groceries and food. Does winter make everyone want to eat and eat and EAT ALL THE HOT FOOD? Yep, me too. Same as every other season, really. 

Watching: I began watching reruns of Mad About You, just for something mindless to do while I'm folding washing. Anyway, there was episode the other day when it was NYE in 1996. And I suddenly realised, that is TWENTY-ONE years ago! Jebeez, I feel ancient. 

Hoping: That my upcoming mammogram in August will be all clear again for the second year. Fingers, toes, legs, arms, eyeballs crossed! 

Marvelling: At how time flies, and at my beautiful family.

Cringing: At the thought of having my tits crushed again. I can deal with the pain, but waiting for the results is very anxiety-provoking. 

Needing: See: Wanting. They're not just wants, they're NEEDS, I tell you!

Questioning: Life, The Universe and Everything. Also; what can I eat next?

Smelling:  My dinner. Pie, mash and peas. Total comfort food. I don't even care. It was GOOD. 

Wearing: I am certainly NOT wearing my pyjamas. Nope. No way. Oh shut up, it's COLD! 

Noticing: That my unpleasant little 'friend' (aka anxiety) has snuck up on me again. 

Knowing: The unpleasant 'friend' will be shown the door very soon. 

Thinking: About what book to read next.

Admiring: Anyone who is battling anxiety. You're a bloody legend. 

Getting: Cold. Fat. Old. I won't be cold forever, though. Shame about the other two...

Bookmarking: Nothing!

Disliking: That all the good and groovy people suffer. See:Wishing. 

Opening: Books. I still love a good old-fashioned paper book.

Closing: Drawers and cupboards so I can't see the mess and my epic failure to embrace the Konmari method. 

Feeling: At the moment, I feel kinda neutral and even. I like that. Wish I could bottle certain feelings and banish others for good. 

Hearing: Hang on, didn't I already answer this?

Celebrating: We have several birthdays coming up. Mr 15 becomes Mr 16 (yikes!) in 7 days, then it's my Mum's birthday on the 26th. And in August, it's Mickey Blue Eyes's turn. Yay! CAKE! 

Pretending: That I'm a mature, sensible adult. Yeah, nobody's fooled, least of all me. 

Embracing: Electric blankets, track suit pants and fleecy pyjamas as day wear. I have drawn the line at wearing them to go shopping, though it's tempting... Especially because nothing much fits me right now. Oops. 


Done! That's my stock-taking for the month of July!


What are you celebrating in the month of July? 

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Magical Moments

There are certain magical moments in life you wish you could capture and bottle forever. Then, when you're in other less magical moments you could open that bottle up and sprinkle some of that magical fairy dust stuff.

Thinking about it, there are probably several such moments for me. The one that immediately comes to mind is the day I found out I was pregnant with Mr (almost) 16. Words cannot describe the sheer joy.

I've blogged about it a little before here.

After five years of trying to conceive, I was certain that it would never happen. That was a crazy happy ecstatic and joyous feeling. Unbelievably awesome. You rarely have such moments of absolute elation in life.

When I finally understood that I was, in fact, pregnant, I was laughing and crying at the same time. It was unbridled and I couldn't control it. They were tears of pure joy. 

It certainly makes me all warm and fuzzy remembering that moment. Imagine, just imagine, being able to capture it forever. I don't have any photos of that particular day. I can't even remember if I have the ultrasound scans, though I must have them somewhere. The feeling of that day is something I've never forgotten.

I  always joke how it was better than winning the lottery, but at the same time. I've never actually won the lotto, so I would like to arrange that. You know, just so I can know for sure!

But you know what? There are other magical moments. But I don't distinctly remember them. They were unmemorable and ordinary. I felt neither panicked nor euphoric. There was nothing special or remarkable about them in any way. Just ordinary moments in an ordinary day. Forgettable for their very ordinariness. Do you know what I mean? Those even moments of equilibrium. I really wish I could bottle those. I could take them out as a balm when I'm anxious, stressed or worried. When I feel despondent, dejected, dreary and just plain in the doldrums, there would be my trusty bottle of equilibrium.

There are certain other feelings and/or moments that I can recall. Such as:

• The buzz of endorphins that kick in after exercising.

• Taking off and touching down in a plane for the first time when I went overseas to Holland with my parents in 1981.

• The time Mickey Blue Eyes, the boys and I went to Magnetic Island. It was SO spectacularly beautiful that you could imagine you were literally in paradise. 

• The feeling of freedom when you left school on the last day of term as a child (a slightly different feeling as a parent!). 

• Hearing Carpenters music for the first time. 

• Driving off for the first time by myself. Especially because I was a very late starter here. Never thought it would ever happen! 

• Belly laughs with my boys

• Moments in my boys development and growing up. First words and steps etc. (I do have some photos of these times to remember. So that's something).

I'm sure I could think of many more magical moments, but I'll wait and see. I'm hoping there's more to come, even without the bottle of magical moments fairy dust. In the meantime, I'll just take balanced and ordinary old equilibrium. And maybe a lottery ticket or two...

Linking up for Friday Reflections with the prompt:

Write about a moment in life you wish you could freeze and preserve. 

What about you?

What moment do you wish you could bottle and capture forever? .

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Something About Selfies

For some one who can be terribly self absorbed, I am certainly not into the whole selfie phenomenon. I suspect it's partly because I'm shy and an introvert, but mainly I'm just a lazy technophobe with a dodgy old phone. I have no idea how to disguise double chins and add filters. Shrugs.

I don't really understand the whole get your boobs out on the internet and no make up selfies lauded as 'brave'. I must be extremely brave if that's the case... (Almost) no make up is my normal way of life these days.

Anyway, I've managed to take a few over the last year or two, even when I was going through cancer treatment. My bald noggin scared off one or two people. I lost a couple of 'likes' after posting it. But as the saying goes: it's like the trash took itself out.

Apparently it was National Selfie Day the other day. I didn't even know that was a thing. Thinking about it, my boys appear to not be into selfies either. It would appear we are a very introverted family.

The other thing is, I kind of have resting bitch face. Or something. I don't have much expression even when I feel really happy.

Having said all of that, I suppose I do take in interest in other folks selfies on social media. It's always nice to see someone else's smiling face, but  not so much my own resting bitch face (which will henceforth be known as RBF). 

I know I should take more selfies, it doesn't matter what I look like. Double chins, wrinkles, RBF, the whole shebang. Otherwise my funeral will rock around (hopefully many years from now!) and there will only be ancient photos from years ago available for my kids to remember me. 

My mum actually bought me a selfie stick some time ago and I never used it. Come to think of it, I'm not even sure where I put it. Weird. Hmmmm, where is that thing...

Anyway, a quick perusal of my Facebook photos shows me that my selfies have revolved around the sad saga of my hair. My tresses appear to have had an entire life of their own. See below.

THE TRAGIC TALE OF NESS'S TRESSES IN SELFIES

Me with 'normal' hair a few years ago.

Me when I decided to become a Hare Krishna.
Just kidding! Me during chemo last year.

Me being smokin' hawt in a beanie. Also during
chemo last year.

My Nanna Ness look when my hair started to
grow back. 

And finally...

Me a few weeks ago.

Now you can see why I'm not into selfies. They're all blurry and just ghastly and frightfully horrid and all those other expressions out of Enid Blyton books.

Any tips on how to make them less blurry when you have a crap phone? Plus, how do you hide double chins and add filters? Oh, that's right... I could just google that myself. Oops. Will do. As you were.

What are your thoughts about selfies?

Do you celebrate National Selfie Day?

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