superwoman

Oh the joys of getting older.

I wrote a post a while ago about the negative effect it is having on my eyesight, so I'll leave that particular symptom out of this. If I repeat myself it might seem like I've forgotten what I already said, and I don't want to give the impression that dementia is setting in.

Yet.
I'm sure it's only a matter of time but I've never had the best memory anyway, I'm forever going upstairs then forgetting what I went to get. Or finding whichever item I want straight away then spending half an hour looking for the thing that is actually in my hand. Or going all the way to the supermarket because I need some sugar but it's far cheaper there then the shop at the top of the road, spending sixty quid then getting home, needing a coffee and at that point realising that I forgot the fucking sugar I went there for in the first place.
So I don't know that anyone will notice if I do get dementia.

But I am beginning to realise that every cloud does indeed have a silver lining.

For a start there's the mentalpause to contend with. The obvious upside to that is the monthly visitor no longer comes around which of course saves on one expense. But thanks to the endless hot flashes I think I might have stumbled upon a way to supplement my income by hiring myself out as an alternative energy source. And if anybody is thinking of having a barbecue for a large reasonable fee I will come and provide the outdoor heating for your guests.

And due to the newest addition to my catalogue of ageing symptoms, night sweats, I am saving a fortune on the heating bill. Although it does mean that I'm permanently tired from the constant battle with my quilt.
Get too hot so wake up.
Kick it off.
Go back to sleep.
Get too cold so wake up.
Pull it back.
Get too hot so wake up.
Kick it off . . .

All fucking night. Every fucking night. And I am having some very bizarre dreams when I do sleep. Including a sex dream about Will-i-am-an-annoying-twat-and-according-to-my-dream-a-crap-shag-too. That's what you get for watching the voice and laughing at his inability to string a coherent sentence together without saying the word dope. Ironic really, as he just comes across as being a bit dopey.
Also ironic that a show called the Voice has a judge that can't open his mouth without thinking for five minutes and clearing his throat ten times before speaking. He is that irritating I would happily clear his throat for him with the use of a garrote.

Anyway I digress, back to the original topic. The positive side to getting older.
Did you realise that women actually start to gain a Superpower once we get past 40 ?

It's true.
We become invisible.

Personally I would've preferred the ability to fly, or even something like being able to shoot flames out of my fingertips but I'll take what I can get.
A friend first pointed out this strange phenomena to me, well obviously since I can always see me I didn't realise that other people - in particular men - couldn't, but once I was made aware I realised it is indeed true.

Now THIS I could've had some fun with.

To get the full effect you need to be standing next to another female who is under 40, in fact the younger or blonder the better as the effect of the invisibility will be magnified considerably. If she has big boobs too then it works to the point where you can become completely transparent.

However the effect can be slightly counteracted if even though you are over 40 you are also blonde and/or boobalicious. So if you want to lessen the invisibility then I suggest investing in some peroxide and serious push-up engineering to overcome the ageing females worst enemy.
Gravity.
I happen to think that gravity and Mother Nature are in collusion and Mother Nature might make the flowers bloom and the sun shine but when it comes to the female of the species she's a bit of a bitch. Because just when you get to the age where you have totally lost all the insecurities of youth, and feel comfortable in your own skin, sure of yourself and who you are, she decides to alter the skin so it doesn't quite fit as well as it used to.
Then she gets gravity to come on over and send the contents of most of the skin South.

I swear the pair of them are having a fucking good laugh at the joke they've played on us.

Well they obviously failed to take account of the Superpower, because if they can't see me then they can't laugh at me either. I am going to try and test this ability in other situations too, other then the social settings I've experienced it in so far.
Maybe I can walk into a jewellers and help myself to some diamonds.
Or stroll out of Dixons with a flat screen under my arm ? It's also Sons birthday at the weekend and he needs a new laptop.
Most of the staff in there are young men and they seem to be the ones the effect works on best. All I need do is hang around outside the shop and follow some younger females in and they won't be able to see me.
Yet another financial saving courtesy of the mentalpause.

And I have to say that based upon something that happened earlier I think I prefer being invisible. England has been very hot for a week now and I was wearing a summer dress, I really like it, it's kind of 1940s style, polka dot fabric, and as it is a bit low cut it shows off the jamoonas so I am a bit less invisible when I wear it. It's got elastic gathering just above my waist then the skirt is flared, so I think conceals all the gravity stricken bits below it.

I thought I looked a bit like this. . . 

When I got off the train this evening a (younger male) friend was also on the platform. He came up to me to say hello and as we walked over the bridge together chatting I was aware that his eyes seemed to not be meeting mine and aiming a bit lower.
I thought he was looking at my tits.
Then he said. . . .
"I didn't know you were having a baby. . . "

But apparently it was more like this.

Fuck. My. Life.

Of course he was put swiftly in his place, and he looked SO embarrassed when he realised he was wrong. Ever watched a six foot fella shrink to the size of a small child in front of you ?
I think at that point he wished he was invisible.

No chance mate.
I'm not sharing my Superpower with anyone.

I'm off.
There is a gym just up the road and I am going to lurk around the male changing room. It's not like they'll be able to see me.

enough

I give in. Or give up.
Whatever.
The time has come.

Warning : 'Women's Problems' post coming up.


As much as I might want to carry on kidding myself that I'm still 28, my body is refusing to comply. It's getting harder to carry off anyway, I mean nobodies going to believe that I had Son when I was three are they ? Well not without a huge scandal and at the very least my name in the Guiness Book of Records.

Despite my reservations I am off to the doctors next week to get me some HRT.
Fuck the 'natural' herbal remedies, they aint touching the sides of it, what I need right now are some MASSIVE drugs.
Proper hardcore ones.

Gimme the good shit Doc.

Three times this week I have woke up in what felt like a pool of my own piss paddling pool, but was in fact fucking horrible sweat.
I don't remember the last time I had a decent nights sleep.
My skin itches like I'm coming off smack I've got chicken pox.
I'm having hot flashes in the most inopportune places, in the last two weeks these have included :

• On the train.
• In the queue in the bank.
• Whist picking my friends kid up from school.
• In a taxi

Off topic - got a cab this morning - I think I know the driver - he thinks he recognises me too but we can't figure out where from. Get to work - all day it bugs me - this afternoon I realise he's a guy I fucked a few times about 10 years ago - oops. 
Wonder if he's figured it out yet. . . .

Anyway, back to the big issue, more crucially I want to FUCKING KILL SOMEONE.
Nobody in particular (well there are a few likely candidates) but really anyone would do. If any of you know of anyone you'd like offed let's talk - there would be a large fee involved but I could probably use the hormonal imbalance as a defence and get off with a few years probation and some court ordered therapy.

Oh no your honour. . . that wasn't me, my knife is MUCH bigger.

I have always had a psychotic temper slightly short fuse, but it used to take something big to light that fuse. . .just when it did DUCK AND COVER.
For the last few weeks it feels like it's smouldering away all the time.
The dark thoughts are slowly taking over.
Had some woman in the seat in front of me on the train the other day talking on her phone with a really annoying whiny voice, instead of what I'd normally do. . .ie sit there and make up sarcastic comments about her in my head, I was fantasising about reaching round and shoving her phone down her throat.

I'm a bit worried about myself.
I know what I've been capable of in the past when angry.
Fuck knows what I'd do now if someone REALLY pisses me off.

And let me tell you EVERYONE is pissing me off.

So yeah, the doctors it is. Either that or the life of a secret Ninja assassin, and as I don't know any Kung Fu that's not looking very likely.

Would like to be this . . . 

I'm also a bit too fat to look good in a leather catsuit.
Which is what I imagine myself wearing if I went for that option.

But the reality would probably be more like this . . .

Or maybe I just need one of these . . . 

Okay okay I'll stop the whining now.
*thinks warm fluffy lovely thoughts*
Nah, didn't work. GIVE ME CHOCOLATE.
Here's a cat with a hat.

Awwww. . . .

Ps. Has anyone seen the plumber lately ?

ch ch ch changes

I decided to do a bit of online research into my current phase of going through 'the change'. I quite like that expression, makes me wonder if I should keep an eye on my hands around the next full moon. . .

Think I might need a manicure and a haircut.

I was looking for some ideas for alternative therapies and I have since stocked up on a few bottles of evening primrose capsules - kind of apt as just the name of that makes me think of fragrant old ladies.
Although old ladies do generally smell of wee.

I can relate to psycho.

I also have some ginseng and multivitamins.

Apparently I should pretty soon be having extra vitality.
Not entirely sure quite what that means, but it might give me a bit more energy (is Ginseng like speed but for old people?).
I guess people will at least hear me coming as taking that many tablets I'm probably going to rattle as I walk.

I also found a list of other symptoms I could experience - fatigue, lethargy, irritability, hairiness, insomnia, itchy skin, forgetfulness, mood swings. . . sounds like I've been going through the menopause for at least 25 years.

That must be some sort of record.


It also appears that these hot flushes as I've been calling them are not flushes, the correct term is FLASHES.
I don't know about elsewhere in the world but in the UK if you're a flasher then you're a weird loser who goes around showing your genitals to strangers.
Well that's what they were called the last time I met one anyway.
So now I can be even more of a pervert and blame it on my age.

My inner child is a bitch.

Best get myself a dirty mack and a moon calendar.
". . . . sorry officer it's the change".

Earlier in the week I was forced to endure watched a couple of hours of kids TV with the granddaughter where I work, it seems I'm not the only thing that's changed.
What the fuck has happened to Scooby Doo ?
It's not how I remember it that's for sure, and surely it's about time Thelma and Daphne went through the menopause.

Of course there's a lot of programmes I remember from being a kid that have been revamped and improved, and it's quite funny to watch the old versions as an adult - you see things you missed as a child. Like how camp the original Batman was.
Best not think about Christian Bale in the rubber suit though. . . I feel a flash coming on.
And in the UK there was always Rainbow - a bit after my time as a kid but my younger sister used to watch it, now you just wonder how the hell they got away with it.

Zippy ? 

Teddy in a gimpsuit.

The thing that really annoyed me about the kids TV I watched with Lily was the fucking adverts. It's a constant bombardment of expensive ridiculous toys, all of which she of course informed me she wanted. In one break there was 'realistic' toy dog that cost SEVENTY FIVE POUNDS, and then right at the end of it they showed you the toy cat you could also have.
("oh I want one if those too")
This was followed by a bright doll type thing, of which you could pick from half a dozen and which were shown with various accessories. A rip off mere snip at £45, but "accessories not included".
("I want a pink one and a green one and the house")
Every advert break was the same, none of the toys shown were less then £40.

I feel for parents, it was similar when Son was little, but we didn't have cable and satellite channels devoted entirely to children so while there were adverts for toys it wasn't as intense. You might not want to spoil your children but it's got to be hard to even know what to get them for birthdays or Christmas when they are telling you they want so much.
It seems to me that the companies that make these things are relying on the emotional blackmail of parents wanting their kids to have the things they didn't in order to make a fat profit.

Barbie can kiss my arse.

Well until they get too old for toys, but then the fashion and make-up companies take over and mess with your kids self esteem and body image.

When my sister and I were young we used our imagination to play with our toys. Our Sindy dolls (UK version of Barbie) had houses, but we made them out of empty boxes. And I learnt to sew by making clothes for them.

Many years ago a friend of mine who was a struggling single parent of three wanted to get her eldest boy a He-Man castle for Christmas. He'd been saying how much he liked it every time he saw one advertised on the TV, and he already had the action figures.
I remember this so well because by the time she had the money to get it the shops had sold out and she was quite upset, but another friend of ours had managed to find one for her.

Who wants a large lump of snot

He was really happy when he opened it on the day, but after a while she noticed that he wasn't actually playing with it and asked him why. He said he couldn't, as he needed He-Mans enemies castle too (I don't remember his name, I'm old). Because on the advert that's how the kids were playing with it.

I know it's never going to happen but I think maybe TV companies should put an upper limit on the value of toys advertised on kids channels.
Like two quid.

Dream on Cowgirl. There's more chance of me changing into a werewolf on the next full moon.
Ok so that's not entirely impossible. . .

tick tock

I am feeling very big headed rather special at the moment as in the last week my blog has passed the two hundred followers point and reached twenty thousand page views.
I'm suitably impressed with myself.

To celebrate I made a cake.
Like I need an excuse to make a cake.

Help yourselves to a virual slice.

There is one thing that always puzzles me about the followers gadget though. Have you ever counted the number of people that actually show up on the list ?
There are always slightly less there then the actual number, I first noticed this when I had about 50 - the discrepancy then was just two, now it's about seven. It's not, as I first thought, anonymous followers - I checked that out - anonymous really does mean just that, and you don't see them anywhere.
They're the real stalkers of the blogging world.

Nor is it the people who follow via Reader or Feedburner, I have more followers in both and they do not appear in the gadget, only those who use 'friend connect' or the Navbar link show up.
So who are these people ? Where are these people ?
Are any of you reading this ? And if so can you tell me how you are not appearing in the gadget but showing in the numbers ?
I know it doesn't matter. . . .I don't lose sleep over it, I'm just curious.

And it might come in handy the next time I want to lurk around and stalk follow some fit young fella's blog.

What I am losing sleep over - or rather what is depriving me of sleep is fucking vile horrible night sweats, accompanied by my legs refusal to be comfortable no matter where I put them.
(Men - look away now, I am going to moan about 'womens things').
Yeah, I might think I'm still 25 but my body has decided to let me know that this is really not the case. Thanks mother nature, has anyone ever told you you're a fucking bitch.

I feel like someone's following me around with a flame thrower, and if I catch the cunt I'm going to knock him the fuck out then stick it up his arse. (Mood swings. . . what mood swings ?) There is no warning when one of these delightful flushes is going to happen, one minute I'm stood there joking with a fella in the queue in the shop about winning the lottery, then suddenly I'm bright red and sweating.

Wonder if he's ever had that effect on women before.

It's like a combination of a drug induced head rush and an orgasm.
Except it's not nice.
And you wouldn't want to be doing either in the queue in the shop or on the bus. Well I dunno, you might - but I have actually done one of those as well and I wouldn't recommend it.

I'm on fire.

If this starts to turn into a blog about getting older (who know's what other joyful things this current phase may do to my brain) perhaps one of the mysterious stalkers can hunt me down and knock some sense into me. Or give me a large dose of hormones.
Apparently that's the cure, and will turn me into an even tempered, well behaved model of sweetness and light. Seeing as I was never one of them anyway that might be a fucking miracle difficult.

That's quite enough about that subject.

As I may have bragged about mentioned once or twice I am going to India for a month in December.
Eight weeks and counting.
I have no intention of spending time on the Internet while I'm there, while I will check my emails from time to time I'm not going to be sat in an Internet cafe when I can be on the beach.

I won't mind sweating there, I can blame it on the weather.

So I am hoping that maybe a couple of you would like to guest post here in my absence. I already have two volunteers, so only looking for one or two more, would anyone else like to do it ?
A chance to show your stuff to all the other regular readers here.
Email me if you do, you can do that from my G+ profile.

I'm off, I need to buy a job lot of industrial size fans on ebay.
And I BETTER get a discount or there will be trouble.

This ought to do the trick. . . now I just need a really big man bag to carry 

them around.