There’s a lot of things I’m kinda good at, and another lot of things that I’m okay at. Then there’s a whole other lot of things at which I suck.

I don’t know why these skills are so elusive to me, try as I might, I have never been able to fully manage doing them gracefully, or gratefully or anything-fully.

I thought it might be fun to write them down, because that’s what you do when you think that you may never come up with an interesting blog post again, because you can’t seem to find the inspiration anymore in your daily life, because all you ever do is home, work and play with your partner.

(When I named this blog 3 years ago, I never knew how those words would come back to haunt me.) Perhaps I should rename the blog: “AT HOME WORK PLAY with FITTY“?

But enough of that! That’s a whole other blog post

Here’s to still trying to learn:

MascaraI have never been able to put this stuff on without poking my eye with the brush, smudging it over my cheek 10 seconds later (by rubbing at my eyes), or clumping my eyelashes together!

Plus, what’s with the label saying “No Clumping” when clearly, around 24 hours after you buy it, that shit is going to clump all over the brush anyway? *Cue advice from bitches who know how to “Mascara”, (and who will slap me for adding tap water because that’s the only way I know how to stop it clumping!)

EyebrowsMy eyebrows are stupid…  Normal eyebrows seem to grow above the eye, and follow the line of the brow bone, right? My eyebrows just grow in bushes all over my face. There are gaps and hairy bits, there are isolated hairs in the middle of my forehead, and even a line of hair on its way to my ears?

When I was younger, (before I had them waxed for the first time), they were okay. Stupid – but not noticeably ridiculous. Ever since that first wax, (which incidentally was the only time my eyebrows ever appeared to be “groomed”), they have followed their own path. Wherever they like. I totes give up, especially now that I can’t even see them without my glasses on. How the fuck are you supposed to pluck, wax or burn your eyebrow hair off with cream, when you can’t even differentiate between your brow line, and your scalp/ears?

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DirectionsI can’t even. Even if I pay attention, I still manage to get myself turned around somehow and have no idea which way I turned into a road, in order to get back out.

At work, when I have to consider things like the goddamn direction of the prevailing winds, or the “view corridor” on a certain block of land, I have to find the north point on the map and guess, work it out from there, (ask Fitty.)

If you were directing me you might say something like, “Easy! Just turn left at the next T-junction, go for about 150m and then turn right, followed by an immediate left into such and such a street. Your destination is 5m from the corner.” Aaand I would be like – “yep…right… ok – easy!”

*I would turn left at the T-junction, then I would be all ummm, left – then 50m from the corner and then 150m’s right and there it is! OMG WHERE IS IT?

Walking in front a room full of peopleI’m at a show, an event or at the school assembly hall  (watching the kid’s get some kind of award or perform “Beethoven’s 9th” on a recorder.) Nature calls, or I have to leave the room, or change position to get that photo I promised I’d get?

I stand – my chair either screeches across the floor, or I get my leg tangled around the chair leg. Stumbling into the next person’s lap, I recover – apologise, then step gracefully out into the aisle and make my way to the bathroom.

No. I don’t.

I stand there with my head doing slow rotations as I try to locate the toilet. Every eye in the room is on me. It takes the concentration of every cell in my body to make my legs walk, placing my feet one after the other seems incredibly hard! It’s like I’m stuck in quicksand..

By the time I make it to wherever it is I’ve gotta go, my face is fire engine red, and I’d  rather die than have to walk back to my seat. I have perfected the art of looking confidently like I don’t care, (whilst inwardly cutting the flesh of my inner thigh like the world’s most depressed emo-teen.)

Behaving in public:  

I just can’t. Neither can Fitty.

Do the two of you fight over who gets to push the elevator button?

Race each other to the car shouting “SHOTTY DRIVING!?”

Have you ever been bowled over, (literally – like a bowling pin) in the aisle of a supermarket, by a tin of MILO?

Does your partner shout at you from aisle 10, when you are in “Fruit and Veg?”

Perhaps you have seen us shopping together? Tutted and turned your back on us, because “Seriously, who behaves like that at our age?”

We do…

Then there’s T, my bestie and “spiritual cleanser” – we went to the movies last night. Seconds after we took this selfie, T  choked on a mouthful of popcorn when I whispered to her that the woman behind me had “vaginey odour.”

movie date

Popcorn Goes In Your Nose

Maturity: “See above.”

My anxietyTruth be told, I am getting a handle on this.

F i n a l l y.

Well that’s not entirely true – but I am learning to live with a speedy heart beat, nauseous gut, sweaty palms and feeling kinda like I left the stove on at home with a small child in it.

Usually as I’m trying to fall asleep at night, that little bastard anxiety will try and make me imagine that one of my children is that very moment driving into a tree, or falling off an abseiling rope.. (My anxiety is very imaginative at night!)

When I am truly exhausted by my anxiety, for some reason reciting something such as *”The Lord’s Prayer” (over and over again really fast) keeps my mind busy enough to allay even the most vicious animal attack or run away train.

*I’m as baffled by my brain’s choices as the next guy most of the time…

Appropriate nudityThere is a time and a place for nudity. The shower is a good example. Sex is another.

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD why can I not limit my nudity to those occasions? I’m completely innocent here…  I might just be going out to the clothesline to get clean knickers, but of course that will be the day that the ENERGY GUY COMES TO READ THE METRE and drives up the driveway to see my shiny-white-ass running full speed for the door…

With the advent of menopause and the hot flashes, I often rip my shirt off and wave my arms in the air screaming “FUCK ME I’M DYING IS IS HOT IN HERE OR WHAT?” Of course I’ll be doing just that when one of the children decides to end its 9 hours of cyber-hibernation and come looking for food!

Taking a compliment:

Why do people even compliment women? I have never heard a woman accept a compliment gracefully. I’m the worst..

“Your eyes look so pretty today” – as if, I’ve been crying all morning! *crosses eyes

“Have you lost weight?” –  yeah right, I use mirror illusions, (learned it at magic school.)

Not being awkward:

If I look like I’m avoiding you on the street, I am.

I’m terrified I’ll say the wrong thing. I have an uncanny knack for retrieving half the information I need from my memory in order to not say awkward things. For example: I know the last time we chatted you said something about your mother. (I can’t remember what, but I think it’s probably a good idea to ask about your mother?)

You tell me she’s still dead – and yes you did tell me that last time we spoke.

I go and stab myself. (It’s better I just avoid you..)

Not being filthy mouthed:  I try, and if I have to – like (when around the in-laws), I can certainly curb my swearing – but in every other situation, I can’t seem to stop my filthy mouth. I say things to Fitty like, “I’m not going to call you a fucking dick face anymore”, and then not 10 seconds later he’s being a fucking dick face, and I have to..

I honestly don’t see why the word “cunt” is an invalid scrabble word either, but Magoo would NOT ALLOW!

Nail polish:  I started out carefully, but then frustration happened. I believe nail polish is messier than childbirth, and requires just as much hand holding and coaching.

nailed it

nailed it!

Footnote: I think one of the things I’ve totally mastered, is not taking life too seriously. It’s what I do to keep the smile on my face, and to help keep the smile on the faces of those I love. You only get to live one life – so live it and be happy, don’t take yourself so seriously that you forget how to laugh at yourself!