Cleo Twyford is dodging minor disasters, indulging in chick chat and wielding random insignificant theories. (And talking about herself in third person)
You know you are getting older when ... #4
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
You know you are getting older when ... You are digging through some old things, you find a compilation music tape that you made circa 1985, you put the tape on, you are getting into the songs, singing along and thinking what great music taste you have ... then you turn it off and someone yells out "WHAT A RELIEF".
I don't know what possessed me when I recognised an aerobics instructor from my gym at the supermarket and bounced over to check out what she had in her shopping basket with a loud "I hope you've got all healthy things in there" (complete with a hideous loud cackle) a few weeks ago. For her part, she looked a bit taken aback, to say the least. Last night I ventured back to her aerobics class after I had managed to get over my mortification. But THEN (and it makes me cringe to even think about it) I chance upon her in the bathroom at the gym - well actually i look up to find her staring at me with an odd look on her face - and I say equally loudly, "Sorry I accosted you at the supermarket" and she says, sans humour, "yes". Cringe, cringe, cringe.
So this morning I am getting in the shower and I turn on the taps and there is no hot water. So I scream out to my fellow house sharer "There's no hot water!" Only then I realise I had mistaken the cold tap for the hot tap so had turned on the cold tap to full strength and the hot tap a little then not at all ... I'm not sure how I managed to do this since I've used that shower every day for more than a year. And I still haven't explained to the person I live with what really happened. Hmmm Wonder what he's thinking.
You will know a man dressing far too old for his age when you see one or more of the following items: 1. A cravat 2. A pipe 3. A tweed, peaked cap 4. Golf wear worn as everyday wear 5. A badly executed toupee
When I woke up this morning I looked in the mirror to find I had a perfect Anne of Green Gables hairdo (I got a bit of a fright, but now I'm in my thirties a scare does wonders to wake me up.) I think I'm going to take a leaf out of my neighbour's book and get a cat and call it Gilbert Blythe.
This week I asked a funeral director how she got to be a funeral director. She answered by saying "Well I used to work as a nanny ..." But of course - that's a perfectly natural career progression.
And, I don't think working as manager at Kentucky Fried Chicken is a very good idea if you don't like to eat chicken - and it wasn't just mild dislike either; this girl hated chicken, absolutely detested it. I just wonder how she motivates her staff, let alone the customers ... Personally I wouldn't eat it, but er, you might like it.
It was kinda cool to wear your high-school-graduation jumper straight after you graduated in 1988; but two decades later, it's looking a bit tatty and people will look at you strangely. Even if you have just graduated, you should not, under any circumstances wear your graduation jumper on a date, to weddings or to a nightclub. Apart from the fact that it looks bad, you will never NEVER pick up a girl.
You know how self-help books tell you that you should visualise yourself in a successful situation and it helps you be confident and achieve what you want to achieve? Well I have this horrible uncontrollable visualisation happening in my head. It's like before I have to do anything at work, or go to a social event (anything really) I visualise myself doing or saying something ditsy. Sometimes it even includes a hideous laugh, complete with a snort. Anyway it's getting out of control, I can't stop it. It's like you try to stop yourself thinking about pink elephants, then pink elephants fill your head (now I'm thinking about pink elephants) Wait, I'm talking about this like everyone else experiences it. You do, don't you? Or am I completely weird with no chance of normality? Who am I kidding? I AM completely weird with no chance of normality ;)
I just went for a walk down the street and a black and white cat stuck his head through a fence for a pat. Then I noticed the tag on his collar, which said his name was 'Mr Darcy'. Now this name says much much more about his owner than it does about the cat. (I realise that because I know this, it means I have to come out as a closet hopeless romantic and avid Jane Austen novel reader. Did I just say that out loud?) I've never met the owner, but I already know she is a she, she is over 30 and she is more than a little bit disillusioned about men - to the point where she has given up on them and is now more attached to her cat than she ever could be to any man. Well who wouldn't be? Mr Darcy is handsome, loving, and waits impatiently at the garden gate for her to come home every day.
Ditsy Event #1 I spent the morning drinking coffee with a friend, and we watched a succession of 60+ women pass us by, every single one of them wearing an item of clothing that was beige. Yes, it's true, beige is extremely popular among the over 60s set. So, of course, I have to say out loud, "When I get old I'm never wearing beige", complete with a sneer, a tut and a big BIG eye roll. By the afternoon I had bought a beige dress without a second thought.
Ditsy Event #2 Me: Oh yes I'd love to see your photos of Singapore Intrepid Traveller: See here on the water are concrete statues of cats Me: Wow amazing, the black ones look really real Intrepid Traveller: The black ones are real
This blog is blathered by a 30-something constant bridesmaid sometimes known as: Cleo Twyford Who trips over a lot in: Melbourne, Victoria, AU
About Me: Confession: I am really bad at reverse parking
Confession 2: I have an inner Evil Bridesmaid Confession 3: I have mastered fridge-grazing as a meal option Confession 4: There is a committee in my head and sometimes they are loud. Yes, okay you can shut up now. I said shut up. Sorry about that. See my complete profile
