Today I heard the unmistakable noise of the lining of my skirt ripping as I sat down. Fortunately it won’t show. And I don’t like the skirt (although it is the first time I’ve worn it, it is an ebay cheapie, chosen because it’s warm. It looks like I’m wearing a not-very-nice, frumpy blanket. In a bad way). The better fact is that I am not trying to squeeze into something too small for me, so I won’t self-flagellate ad infinitum. Although the ripping would suggest otherwise, I grant you. But it went on easily and seemed to fit well. Who knows. I’m thumbing a metaphorical nose at it.
I don’t think it’s the demise of the skirt, but I’m feeling a bit fed up today. I’ve been trying to think why and I think there are a few reasons. Firstly, the diet one: I’m just at the stage that any dieter will recognise where it just seems too exhausting an effort. I just had a little jump down on the scales so I ought to be feeling motivated – but I’ve just got to that point where I am just fed up of being hungry all the time, fed up about all the things I have to turn down that I’d really like. It’s nothing new and I know I just have to grit my teeth and continue – but I feel a bit buffeted by it. (No, not that sort of buffet).
The other two things are appearance related. So not wholly unallied to dieting, I guess.
One of my best friends and I met up last week to embrace the almost certainly mid-life crisis of a helix piercing (at the top of the ear). We went to Liberty and I have to say they were excellent (although boy, they must have severe problems getting through a metal detector). It sounded as if it would be too difficult for me – you cannot sleep on that side, perhaps ever, but certainly for the first 6-12 months. If you do, you risk the piercing migrating (and, as we are daily reminded, illegal migration is a bad thing). Seriously though, I don’t need another thing to worry about. My friend had TWO helix piercings and looks like an Elven princess. In the course of this, I scanned my ears (mulling over other possibilities, but looking at my friend’s ear and then mine, I came to the unwelcome realisation that I have big, ugly ears. I’d never really thought about it, although my mother, grandfather and one brother have absolute corkers (well, had, in my Grandpa’s case as he’s dead), so I’m not sure why I’m that shocked. It felt like that would have been a little boost, especially as I read that if you place it following the angle of your cheekbones (and they’re there somewhere), it gives a face liftening and brightening effect. That sounded very appealing, but I don’t think adorning an ugly ear is a good idea (although I will continue to wear earrings in my inexpertly, lop-sided pierced lobes, from teenage years). I feel sad that it hasn’t worked out and am pestering said friend on a daily basis, and keep looking at pictures (not all of her, that would be weird…on Pinterest). I keep going round and round in my head about it – but coming back to the ugly lugholes point which is inescapable.
Secondly my hair. I quite like the colour of my hair – which is kind of obvious, given that I have it dyed that colour, after all. But it is very fine and limp. You know when people say they have fine hair but lots of it? I have fine hair and not lots of it. It has always been straight and fine, albeit helped a little with the former by use of straighteners. Recently though, it has completely changed in texture though and become – not curly, not even wavy exactly, more frizzy and kinky. Changed, therefore, for the worse. And the fact that I’m growing it and it’s at that awkward length where it hits my shoulders and flicks up and/or out and/or kinks unbecomingly. Quite frankly, it looks dreadful. I am trying to persist with growing it, hoping it will get beyond this stage. I guess if it does and it still looks awful, I’ll have to have it all lopped off again. But it’s a lot of (emotional) pain for an only hypothetical gain.
And it’s still February. But no longer January, thank goodness, which lasted at least 9 weeks.
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