Its been six months between blog posts. Six months! I’m sure the resultant absence of crumpet in the bloggosphere has been acutely felt. Better rectify that straight away.
Now the crumpet drought has broken – I’ll continue. I’m back to say “Hi Cougars. I’m not dead yet.’ Instead of spilling pointless drivel all over the internet I’ve spent the past 6 months focusing on equally useless pursuits Now I can add Diploma of Financial Planning to the string of unimpressive qualifications on my LinkedIn profile.
You wanna know the really sick part? I learned about superannuation, tax effective investment and suchlike but I totally didn’t hate it. In fact I’m going back for more which may mean another 6 month absence from social media
In the meantime as a way of easing myself back onto the interwebs, I’m using the template generously provided by that nice lady Pip from Meet me at Mikes. Fun but irrelevant fact – I had a boyfriend called Mike in 2003. His eye-wateringly expensive apartment featured uninterrupted harbor views and his fridge was always stocked with Petersons champagne plus other artisan treats. There’s only one glitch in this idyllic picture – Mike turned out to be a royal asshole. Who’d have thunk it? Anyhow if we could all met at Mike’s fun would be had.
So lets take stock.
Making : Share market losses. This oil price retreat is so kicking my arse as is the bank tax. Anyone got any hawt tips?
Cooking : Evil plans to commandeer my husband’s SMSF.
Drinking : Paracombe wines. I was invited to an event that featured Parcombe wines. After sampling four different Paracombe wines I was drunk enough to unleash the plastic and ended up with a shit ton of Paracombe wines delivered to my door. Moral of the story – don’t go to wine events. BTW – Paracombe is a family run vineyard in the Adelaide Hills.
Reading: This – predictable much? Its only my favorite author (Neil Gaiman) on my favorite topic (hawt Vikings).
Going from the sublime to the ridiculous I also wolfed down Helen Razer’s – Helen 100 because I thought it would be raunchy. In short, sexually fluid Helen resolves to go on 100 dates following the break up of her long term relationship. The process involved the usual line up of players and stayers. By date 53 she found herself a hawt toy boy – 11 years her junior. As someone who is the opposite of sexually fluid I was kinda jealous.
Trawling: TV review sites trying to make sense of the Twin Peaks return.
Wanting: To make sense of the Twin Peaks return. And wanting the real Agent Cooper back – badly.
Looking: At photos of vintage Kyle MacLachlan.
Deciding: That vintage Kyle MacLachlan was more beautiful than I remembered hence the wanting Dale Cooper back. Sorry – this is meaningless if you haven’t revisited Twin Peaks or indeed seen the original 90s series. Lets move on.
Wishing: There was a streaming service which provided every show I want to watch precisely when I want it. All at a reasonable price.
Enjoying: Those Paracombe wines.
Waiting: For Game of Thrones S7 – just like every body else. Bring on the tits and dragons I say.
Liking: Facebook posts of a friend’s European trip but secretly dying of envy inside.
Wondering: If I’m ever gonna wear size 8 again. (No way, get f^%ked, f$%k off).
Loving: Gael Garcia Bernal. I binged watched Mozart in the Jungle and became enamored with the maestro as did every other character on that show. Brace yourselves cougars this is threatening to become a Hiddleswoon level crush for me.
Considering: Exchanging my celebrity leave pass which now reads Aiden Turner for Gael Garcia Bernal.
Pondering: My next stock pick.
Listening: To my kids singing about ‘meato in a burrito’ whenever that new Justin Bieber song – ‘Despacito’ comes on the radio.
Buying: A coffee at the beach every morning.
Watching: More Netflix and Stan than is healthy for a middle aged woman. I’ve gotta say that Better Call Saul has been riveting but Narcos is the best thing streaming at the moment. Narcos is seriously brilliant.
Hoping: I’ll wake up one morning transformed into a cougar of awesomeness like a butterfly emerging from a chrysalis.
Marvelling: At how beautiful and talented by 10 year old is. Surely genetics should have prevented that. Miracle baby indeed.
Cringing: At myself mostly.
Needing: New eyebrows. They’ve turned grey.
Questioning: The validity of tinting my eyebrows.
Smelling: The coffee by the beach every morning.
Wearing: Not size 8.
Noticing: Many smoking hawt hipster crumpets in Surry Hills (where I work).
Knowing: A little more than I did 6 months ago.
Thinking: That a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.
Admiring: The smoking hawt hipster crumpets occupying converted warehouse spaces in Surry Hills.
Getting: Buzzed on Paracombe wines.
Bookmarking: Neil Gaiman books.
Opening: I’d like to say my mind but I’m not really. I’ve heard that certain substances help with that?
Closing: Gym memberships.
Feeling: Vaguely human after my morning coffee.
Hearing: My much younger co-workers’ Tinder dating horror stories.
Celebrating: The fact that I’m married and dating apps don’t feature in my life.
Pretending: To have a shred of competence.
Embracing: My inner couch potato.
So there you have it cougars. I’m not dead yet – though I doubt this blog post proves that either way.
How have things been for you over these past 6 months?