My Hairstyle History #LifeThisWeek

Brace yourselves for a trip into the worst of 80s and 90s hair. I've shared my hairstyle history before, particularly my infamous mullet-perm. But it's so hilarious it's worth sharing again.

This is one instance when I should definitely let the pictures tell the story. They're very old photos that I scanned and cropped any old how, so apologies in advance.

Long Hair

When I was cute circa 1981 

Perms

Infamous mullet-perm. I was about 16
and it was 1987. That's my only excuse.
Shut up. 

At my 21st. Bad perm. Bad earrings.
Bad make-up. But I did have a good
figure in those days. Sigh.

Poodle perm and weird expression.
Perhaps I was busting for the loo?




Short Hair

This was around my 30th birthday circa 2001.
I was up the duff but didn't know.

The lobster and wine look pretty good.
Not sure about the bowl hair cut.

Bobs

I looked pretty good then.
Is that me? 

Helmet hair. Noice. And my awesome parents.

Bad selfie. The hair was good because
I'd been to the hairdresser.

Long Hair Again 

Ten years ago. I was pregnant
with Mr 9. 

Who cares about my hair LOOK
HOW CUTE MY BOYS WERE 😍

No Hair

2015/16 when I had tit cancer became
a hare krishna. Fortunately I have
a lovely shaped head. So I'm told.

Chemo Curls

Move over Kath Day-Knight

This was the day I went to a club
buffet for a seniors price. Winning!

Silver Fox

Present day.
I let my hair go grey and I DGAF. 

And that completes the cringe.

Linking up for Life This Week and Open Slather.

Which hairstyles have you had?

Read More

A Cautionary Tale #FridayReflections

Good morning, dear people. Or good afternoon or evening, depending on where you are in the world. Today I would like to present to you a (fictional) cautionary tale. Also known as 'Ness Is Very Bad At Titles' (Because I Don't Think It Really Is A Cautionary Tale).

Yeah, that.

Anyway, here it is:

A Cautionary Tale

She cautiously set her cup on the table. Her eyes flicked from the screen to the door. It was time. The guilt twisted inside, taunting her. She jumped when the door opened even though she'd been expecting him.

Panicked, she closed the laptop. He mustn't know.

"Hey babe," Grant was sweaty and distracted, checking his fit bit.

"Good run?" She managed to sound normal.

"Smashed it." He grinned and headed for the kitchen. Too late she remembered her phone charging on the counter. Had she deleted the incriminating texts? Jarred had a habit of sending effusive messages. Especially when she'd just ended their Skype session so abruptly.

Grant drained a glass of water, while she hovered behind him. Then he turned and drew her towards him, oblivious to her distress.

"You're all sweaty," she protested.
"So let's get more sweaty..." he raised an eyebrow then frowned as her phone whistled to indicate a message.

She snapped it up urgently.

"Boyfriend number four?" Grant's lips twitched.

"Very funny!"

She turned her back to read the message. "I need you to go pick up Piper."

Their daughter was safely at her parents place. She could never be privy to such a thing. At five years old, she was far too inquisitive. Not to mention a certified chatterbox. Plus it was a convenient ruse to make Grant leave.

"I need to take a shower first. You said so yourself." He traced his steps back through the living room to the stairs.

The cup. Oh, no.

"On the heavy stuff already?"

"Ha ha." He thinks it's water. Phew. 

Grant knew something was up. She was sure of it. She never left cups around. He was always teasing her about being so meticulous.

Yet here she was, drinking vodka during the day, in a dishevelled house, while ensconced in illicit Skyping. This couldn't go on. She'd have to tell him.

But as soon as Grant left to pick up Piper, she texted furiously.

The coast is clear.

The reply was instant.

I'll be right there. Can't wait!

She was really doing this. All her planning had paid off. She'd fooled him. Later, she would always remember the shock on Grant's face. She couldn't believe he'd never guessed.

"You sneaky bitch," he said. "I can't believe this!"

The stunned expression turned tender.

"God, I love you." He reached to hug her, elated.

Abby embraced her husband. "Happy birthday," she whispered.

"Happy birthday, bro!" Jarred, her brother-in-law, thumped him on the back as all their gathered family and friends laughed and joined in the salutations.

Abby and Jarred exchanged relieved smiles. They'd pulled it off. A surprise 40th birthday party for Grant. They'd been planning it for months via messages and Skype.

"How did you not know?" She asked Grant later. Everyone had finally left and Piper had given in to slumber, exhausted from all the excitement.

"I figured you'd never have anyone over when the place was such a 'mess'." He said, tweaking his fingers to indicate inverted commas. "Well, your version of a mess."

She threw a cushion at him from the artfully arranged nest on their bed. He detested those cushions as much as she loved them. He threw it back, then they were kissing. For the first time ever she decided that all the mess and dishes could wait.


The End.


Yes. Well. Wasn't that cute? For some reason I have the same feeling I have when I eat something too sweet. It's good at the time but then I'm queasy afterwards. Bleurrghh.

I was going to say that the only 'cautionary' thing about it should have been to warn you to have a barf bag ready for afterwards, but I'm over all that self-deprecating crap. Oh wait... DOH.

Old habits and all that... Anyway that's my story. Thank you kindly for reading.

Written for Friday Reflections using the prompt:

1. Start with ‘She cautiously set her cup on the table.......’ Set timer and write for 5 mins.

Do you have a cautionary tale?

Can you think of a better title? 

Read More

Famous People I Have Met #LifeThisWeek 13/8

It should come as quite a surprise when I reveal that I've never met any famous people! Shocking, really. I mean, I live such a glamorous existence. Jet setting to far flung destinations. Mingling with the glitterati. Whatever that means.

I have glitter pens. Same thing, right?

Not really? HMPH.

I guess you could say I've brushed with fame. Or famous people. Depending on your definition of famous.

There was the time I met former Balmain Tigers footballer Wayne Pearce. At least, I think I did. I'm a bit hazy on the finer details. It was decades ago.

I was about twelve or thirteen. We were at some sort of function to do with my dad's work (I think). For some reason Wayne Pearce was there. We were introduced briefly and he shook my hand. At the time I had a bit of a crush on him and was crazy shy, so I blushed as red as my hair.

My brother knew a cousin or something of his because we went to the same school as her. So he happily mentioned this, possessing none of my shyness. My brother and Mr Pearce chatted away for a few minutes while I stood there embarrassed.  And that was that.

Fast forward a decade or so later. I was working for a time in a call centre for NRMA. I took a call from musical theatre singer/actor Anthony Warlow. I was quite starstruck but resisted the urge to go all fan girl. Luckily I am not the stalker type because I knew EXACTLY where he lived. I organised a home insurance policy for him. See? Told you I'm glamorous!

Several years later, we were holidaying in Cairns. With a toddler and a baby. Why let tiny humans stop us? That was our motto.

At one point we were strolling through the airport and a bald  bespectacled dude walked by, smiled at my little one in the stroller, then smiled at me and walked on.

Immediately I thought: "I know that guy!"

A minute or so later it hit me. It was Carrie's gay friend from Sex And The City.  Stanford or something? Him.

Image credit: https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0308606/

I can't recall the actor's name*. All I can say is, if it wasn't him, it was his absolute doppelganger walking through Cairns airport smiling at random babies. Is that weird? Whatever. I'm pretty sure it was him.

Another airport celeb sighting happened at Sydney airport (on a different trip - told you we're jet setters!) when we spotted Aussie rocker Jimmy Barnes at the luggage carousel. A casual "G'day how ya going?" was exchanged between him and Mickey Blue Eyes.

Thus endeth my underwhelming exciting brushes with fame.

I still maintain that I'm glamorous however. You can't stop me.

After all, I recall reading or hearing an observation from comedian Judith Lucy. Something to the effect of how many of the celebrities she interviewed during her time working in commercial radio had nothing more interesting to say than good old Tracy from Penrith. So ner.

Now I'm off to mingle with the glitterati again. Or Tracy from Penrith. Same thing.

What about you?

Have you met anyone famous?

*Turns out his name is Willie Garson. But wikipedia doesn't say if he smiles at random babies in airports... *shrugs*

Read More

Countries I Have Visited #LifeThisWeek

Hello there, lovely people! It's time to reveal the extensive list of countries I have visited. Here it is...

Countries I Have Visited:

• Holland.

The End.

That was a quick post.

Byyyye!

Just kidding. I'm the queen of rambling. Can't get rid of me that easily. So ner!

It's true, though. The only country I've visited is Holland. Technically I should change the title of this post, but why nitpick?

I was certain I had already blogged about visiting Holland before, but when I went looking for the post I couldn't find it. Weird.

I went there as a ten year old with my parents and brother. It was 1981. I can still remember it. Well, bits of it.

We stayed with some friends of ours in Rotterdam. We ended up riding bikes everywhere. My parents have all the snapshots because obviously 1981 was a very long time ago. They also have footage which they had made into a DVD and gave me a copy, but I don't know how to upload it here.

In the footage I can be seen as a ten year old, skipping amongst the tulips.

Not the actual tulips I skipped amongst.

Other random memories of Holland:

• When we arrived I allegedly slept for a solid 17 hours due to jet lag. If I ever travel overseas again as a middle-aged/old lady I'll likely fall into a coma, never to wake up again.  

• I lived on bowls of custard and those round Dutch crisp bread thingys for a month. It was awesome.

• Dutch liquorice called Drop (I think), is the most vile thing I've ever tasted. A million times more salty than vegemite. Yuck!

• They served hot chips with peanut sauce, which struck me as revolting at the time. Now I realise it was probably some sort of satay type sauce and I'd probably love it.

• Yep, we did visit a windmill. I think that was day my mum was filming away merrily only to discover later there was no film in the video recorder!

• We visited some sort of touristy place where the bins would speak when you passed them saying "Papier here!" Or something. My memory of this is a little vague.

• There was a lot of punk and new wave types about and I definitely gawked stupidly at them.

• We went on a boat ride on the canal but as soon as it rocked I freaked and wanted to get off. So my dad got off with me. He doesn't like boats either and I provided him with a convenient smokescreen. Shhhhh, don't tell anyone! 😉

• I remember some of the music that was popular at the time. Such as Double Dutch Bus and Grace Jones's Strange (I've Seen That Face Before). My parents bought a single of the latter, my brother the former. This was in the prehistoric days of vinyl records!

• We almost missed the plane coming home! I'm not sure exactly how my parents got mixed up, but we were meandering around the airport thinking we had aaaages. Suddenly we heard our names being paged and had to bolt to the departure gate. We embarked red as beetroots, as all the other passengers gave us filthy looks. OOPS!

Those are snippets of memories from a very long time ago.

Sadly I've never visited any other countries, but if I could I'd visit the US, Canada and Prince Edward Island. Also; the UK. Not very likely at present, but you never know. Fingers crossed!

What about you?

Which countries have you visited?

Read More

The Question Of Why #FridayReflections

As a girl I would sit in the back seat of the car watching the world whizz by. I'd catch my reflection in the window and gaze at it intently. As I stared at myself suddenly I would be struck with a strange feeling I couldn't articulate. LOOK at that girl with green eyes and red hair. She's me. I'm her. How funny. How fabulous. How interesting. How very curious.  I wondered why I was ME.

Me as a girl. I was cute. 

WHY was I Vanessa, sitting in my parents car, weaving along suburban streets in Sydney? There's millions of people in the world.  Why aren't I one of them? I'm me. Not someone else. Inside this body. Experiencing this life.

The question came and went swiftly. It was too complex for my young psyche. After all, I was the kind of kid who never questioned the fanciful plots of Enid Blyton novels. Sometimes the thought was so odd I would begin to giggle. I couldn't really process or define what I was thinking and feeling.

I still can't exactly.

Mark Twain says this:

“The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.”Mark Twain

I am reminded of how when my mother was weary from my brother and I's constant "why's" she'd sigh and say: "Because Y's a crooked letter and Z's no better!"

It's as good an answer as any.

The thing is, I still don't know why I'm me. I'm glad I am (mostly), but I don't know if there was one specific purpose I was put on earth for.

It sometimes seems that trying to pinpoint certain whys in life isn't always beneficial. At least it isn't for me. I've never figured out exactly what it is I want to do or be when I grow up. And yes, I know. I AM grown up. That's my point. My life is more than half over (unless I live to be well over a hundred), and I still don't have the answers to a million whys. Or one important why.

I could say that I was born to be a daughter, sister, wife and mother. I'm grateful to be those things. Definitely. But I'm also just me. I'm not even the best at being those things, I just bumble along and hope for the best.

Maybe that other most important day of my life is yet to come. Maybe I will understand why one of these days. More likely I will just keep on stumbling along trying to be a better me than I was yesterday. Sometimes succeeding, sometimes not.

And when I catch my reflection and see the middle aged woman who has replaced the little girl I will smile instead of sighing in dismay. I don't always have to know why. I just need to get on with it and be grateful.

What about you?

 Do you find it helpful to question why? 

Read More

If I Could #LifeThisWeek

If I could talk to the animals! Just imagine it! Or something...

Well actually, I DO talk to my dog. And she just looks at me like I'm nuts for some inexplicable reason.

Anyway, that was the first thing that popped into my head for this prompt. Because that's the way my brain works. Then I'll jump to the next random thing.

Which is THIS:

If I could, I would register for The Carpenters 50th Anniversary celebration thing happening in California next April. Then I would go, combining it with a family holiday. Sounds awesome, right?  Unfortunately, I would have to rob a bank first. So if I could please  borrow someone's balaclava?

Just kidding.

I could never rob a bank. Sigh.

First of all, I'd have to use a toy gun. Just like an old episode of The Golden Girls when they get held up by a dude in a Santa suit. (Random brain thing again. Bare with me...) Oh wait.

Random cute bears for no reason. 

Now my random brain is pondering if the expression is bare with me, or bear with me. The latter seems to imply there's an actual bear with me. But the former implies nakedness, and I really don't wanna go there. My random brain has backed me into a very awkward corner.

Moving on.

So where was I? Oh yes, the robbing a bank thing. Silly. I can't do that. Can I?

I'll have to win the lottery instead. Easy peasy. The odds are only astronomical, but meh. Why worry about inconsequential things like logic?

What I'm actually getting at is, if I could, I would go on a holiday. I'm sure it will happen soon. Except it'll be somewhere like Coonabarabran instead of California. Which is fine. I'll go anywhere at this point. Sniff.

Meanwhile, I am in the process of trying to make some changes but I don't want to talk about them at this point because then I'll talk myself out of it, or it won't happen, since I have a habit of announcing things and failing and this is a terrible run on sentence and I don't even know what I'm saying anymore.

And now for some more random 'if I coulds':

If I could, I would skip summer. Or go somewhere cooler. Or better still, make it perfect spring weather all year round, with some rain as well.

Yes, I would definitely make it rain, if I could. Maybe I should try a rain dance, but I don't dance. So magical thinking it is. Make it rain! Pretty please? Pretty please, with sugar on top? Does anyone say that anymore? I just did, so there's that.

If I could, I would lie in the sun all day like Cookie. But I have some stuff I wanna get done. Stuff that actually involves moving. Shame about that.

If I could, I would reinvent the human body so you could get exercise while sleeping. That would be SO much more efficient.

If I could, I would become a speed reader. Then I could read ALL THE BOOKS.

Presently I desire a cup of coffee, but it won't make itself. I find that frightfully rude. If I could, I would WILL the coffee to make itself. Furthermore, the housework should really do itself as well.

If I could, I'd create a magical land called Nessville (just came up with that name off the top of my head...) where cakies are good for you, cancer doesn't exit, everyone is kind and has a pet unicorn. Did I mention that logic is overrated?

Can't do any of those things.

But there is one thing I CAN do.

Bring this bewildering, babbling post crashing to its end.

DONE.

The End.

What would you do if you could?


Image credit: https://www.pexels.com/

Read More

Then And Now #FridayReflections

It often occurs to me that I essentially haven't matured much beyond the age of about twelve. Sure, I've gotten older. I've added a husband and some ankle biters.

Except they're not ankle biters anymore. Details. Hold it. Does anyone actually say ankle biters anymore? Oh right, I just did. So there's that.

Back to the maturity thing. In a lot of ways I've remained childlike. In the sense that I still love all the same things I did when I was twelve.

As a child I was known for make believin'. All alone I created fantasies. As I grew people called it self deceiving, but my heart helped me hold the memories...

Okay, that last paragraph is actually the words to a Carpenters song (Those Good Old Dreams). But that's my point. (I think I have one).

At age of twelve I loved:

• Carpenters music.
• Anne Of Green Gables.
• Reading and books in general.
• Dogs. 
• Daggy movies and TV shows like The Golden Girls. 
• Chocolate and cakie things. 
• Barbie dolls. 

I still love all of them, except the Barbie dolls. I did manage to move on from those. 

Additionally, I was:

• Shy.
• Quiet.
• Introverted.
• A homebody. 
• A daydreamer.

Some might say I've also suffered from a chronic case of the terrible affliction known as Resting Bitch Face since childhood. Especially considering my reluctance to smile in photos. Nice.

All of the above still applies at age 47. Sigh. Well, I guess I can summon up a smile for a snap these days. Sort of. Kind of. Maybe. Mostly. Okay, sometimes. Shut up.

It can be disconcerting to realise that you've never really grown up. But then again, adulthood is overrated.

And what is so wrong with all of those things anyway? It's not like I enjoyed setting things on fire as a child and haven't grown out of it! That would definitely be a problem. 

After all, even Resting Bitch Face has its advantages.

Winning!

What about you?

What were you like as a child?

Are you still the same now?

Linking up for Friday Reflections.

Read More