But here in my brother and sister-in-law’s house, the room I am staying  in has MIRRORS.

The ubiquitous "shot in the mirror" picture

BIG mirrors. The kind you CANNOT AVOID.

Uggggh.

Naked Caity is NOT something even *I* want to witness first thing in the morning, let me tell you!

And I just got out the scales. NOT GOOD. *sigh* I didn’t think I had been over-eating, but obviously I was wrong.   Thing is, I FEEL better.  I can walk more - in fact, as soon as it’s a little bit cooler, Bidgee is taking me for a rousing game of Stick in River.  I’m still tired all the time, but feeling a little bit stronger, y’know?

But the weight loss stuff needs to get back on track.  SERIOUSLY.  (Not that I’m going to be all prissy tomorrow - you should SEE the feast my lovely sister-in-law and Mum have been working on!)

My lovely sister-in-law, Eunju, peeling prawns for the feast

*sigh*

Well, time to stop moaning about it and go out and do some interval training with the dog.  (In my interpretation, we walk for a bit, then run for a bit, then both stop and pant for a bit, then run for a bit….)

Later,

Caity the waddler

!)@*(#&@*& PANTRY MOTH!!

They are EVERYWHERE.  And it’s going to be very expensive to get rid of them - not because it’s an expensive process per se - just some pheromone based traps from the supermarket, and a good wipe down of everything - but because you have to THROW OUT EVERYTHING THAT MIGHT BE INFESTED.

Oh sure, some of the food can be frozen, that kills the blighters. Unfortunately, even though we have an insanely large fridge/freezer, there is NO space in the freezer section at all.

So MOST things  -  like flour, spices, rice, pasta, etc etc etc - basically anything not in a TIN (although I believe the moths are secretly breeding a mutant SUPERMOTH to even get around that difficulty) have to be tossed.  *fume*

MOTHRA!

And the moths are, of course, in my sewing room as well.  Which is why my grabbing the lidless can of this

Spray Starch

and attempting to spray it around the room -INSTEAD OF THIS

FLY SPRAY

was inevitable.

However, those moths have the CRISPEST, MOST CREASE FREE WINGS you ever saw…..

*headdesk*!!

Meh.

Maybe I have rose-coloured memories of the original movie, but as I recall, it SPARKLED.  Ok, the central character was a bit of a wuss, but still - it dripped FABULOUSNESS.

The new version?  Hmmm. Occasional glints… but no dazzle.

That said, I did enjoy it.  There were some great performances (Annette Bening! WHERE has she been for so long, hmmm?) And I loved recognizing lines and scenes (the child actress vs “Aunty Crystal” in the bath was almost (from my memory, anyway) identical to the Joan Crawford version) while laughing at some more modern takes (especially in the birthing room).

The cameos? OMG, THAT was Carrie Fisher?  Eeek!  And as usual, Joanna Gleason did NOT get anywhere near the screen time/lines that she deserved (Did  you SEE her in The West Wing? And how about her utterly knockout performance in Sondheim’s Into the Woods waaaaaaaaay back in 1991? She was been underrated for so  damn long!)  Bette of course pretty much played Bette… Candice Bergen played… Candice Bergen; and Debra Messing played her entire supporting actress role as … well, Debra Messing.

The fashion?  Well…after the opening montage of stylishly clad feet striding along 5th avenue, I kept hoping for more.  Don’t even TALK to me about alleged fashion designer Mary Haines in those GHASTLY flat shoes (pre-transformation) - it was all I could do not to scream “Oh, honey, NO!” at the screen.

But her coat in the making  up scene with Sylvia? UTTERLY FABULOUS!  (of course, I can’t find a #$()@*_( picture..)  Mary Haine’s designs? (by John Dunn) Ho hum.

Look, I didn’t expect the movie to time-travel.  The original was of its time, and so is this movie.  I love that this movie had great roles for some *ahem* “women of a certain age” (and  - WHY don’t we see MORE of some of these people, huh, Hollywood? WHY? ) and I hope the run of “chick flicks for the menopausal” (plese, someone tell me there’s a catchier way to say that!) continues.

Gowns by Adrian...

As soon as I can get my hands on the original, though, I’m grabbing my BFF and maybe a coupla other friends, breaking out the air popped popcorn and bubbly, and enjoying it thoroughly.

Maybe this is even too advanced for them....

and stay the heck out of things they know nothing about.

ANGRY!!!!!

But this year instead of pigging out on chips and dips, I’ve been cutting out pattern tissue instead.  Sometimes I’m just so virtuous…!

But we are having a small crisis: the vegemite is lost!

Now, if you’re not a fan of the black goo, you’ll be saying “So what?”

But in this house, it’s serious stuff.  When you want toast and vegemite, ONLY vegemite will do.  And somehow, our jar has vanished.  I’m currently under suspicion, because I’m the one who keeps moving it off our very limited counter space and back into the pantry - but it’s not there.  Not on the counter.  Not rolled under the table.  NOWHERE!!

It’s a mystery…

And now of course, I’m craving it too….

Mouth ulcers? Weren’t.

Nope, another fabulous side effect of recovery from surgery/wonky hormones: Oral Thrush.   (Trust me, do NOT look that up under “images” on google.  Nuh uh.)

It’s treated by letting prescripti0n* fungicidal lozenges “dissolve slowly in the mouth.”  Ever had zinc lozenges?  Well, imagine those except grainier and flavoured with artificial lemon. ICK!

Better than a mouth and throat too sore to swallow…

(yes, I’m eating yoghurt, lots of yoghurt, plain low fat greek yoghurt.  The coolness is helping more than the “probiotics”, I think.)

I’ll be the one here in the corner, whimpering…

* ‘o’ replaced with ‘zero’  in an attempt to stop spam bots… who particularly enjoy that word.

It’s time for The Shave.

Now, I’m proud of my thatch.  Grown women have pubic hair, ok?  None of this  little girl p0rn0graphic bareness, oh no - mine is a lush, sproingy and multicoloured forest.  (Although I will confess to feeling very ooooold the first time I found an albino kangaroo in the lower forty.   Grey? You’ve got to be kidding me!  GREY?!? I have GREY pubes?! You get GREY pubes?  Oh maaaaaaaaan, yet another Thing Nobody Told Me About Ageing™!

I got over it.  Apparently, some women don’t - I recently read a review of Betty Beauty “Color for Down There”.  Now, I can see wanting to have a bit of fun, and perhaps having Hot Pink Pubes would be a giggle - but I’m just not that worried about whether the collar and cufffs match, you know?  I mean, exactly HOW MANY people do you expect to show that the drapes don’t match the carpet?

ANYWAY: given the luxuriant nature of the growth, we started off by finding and charging the electric clippers.  But the buzzing blades made me tense, and bending gave Mr Beloved a backache.

“This isn’t doing anything, the hair’s too fine.” He says. (I confess to be being momentarily thrilled that my thatch is delicate - because plainly, the rest of me is NOT.  I am now and forever will be a Sturdy Girl, no matter how much weight I lose.  So hey, I’ll take my victories where I can get ‘em.)

Hmmm.

I was planning on waxing - but that was before I realised the logistics of having to hold belly out of the way with one hand (gently, cos it freakin’ HURTS, duh, that’s why I’m having surgery in the first place) and smoothing the wax strip “In the direction of hair growth”.  I don’t know about you, but my bush doesn’t grow in nice straight lines - there IS no direction of hair growth. And anyway I couldn’t see if there was, since we’re working blind here. I haven’t been able to see my TOES for some months, let alone anything else south of my belly-button.

And waxing HURTS.  A lot.

So I resorted to shaving.  Which keeps the Olympic level contortionist act, but adds a further degree of difficulty by adding running water and shaving foam.

Twenty minutes later, two fresh razor cartridges, innumerable squirts of shaving foam later… I’ve shaved up, down, around, sidewards, frontwards, backwards, and I can still feel stubble.  Back again with another new razor blade, one last sweep…

The water heater has run out of hot water, I’m declaring the job DONE.  If it’s not good enough it’s just not.  And in any case, I strongly suspect that whatever I did wouldn’t be good enough and some over-zealous nurse will want to shave poor possible AGAIN before surgery.

And it’s itching ALREADY.

( Mr Beloved did offer to print up a flash card that reads “Why, Yes, I DO have crabs” to excuse the scratching.

I declined.)

EDITED TO ADD: OMG, this is just sick.  Link from Skepchick to a New York Post story on Moms taking their little girls to be waxed - when they don’t even have anything to WAX?!  Ye gods and little fishes, where will it end??

So, tomorrow I’m off to Breast Screen Queensland for a mammogram.  Yet another stop on the Super-Fun-Tilt-Your-World ride that is the process of getting OLDER.

(Yes, thanks, I know NOT getting older would be worse.  But this is MY blog - go whinge on your own!)

Anyway, the Big Boob Squish™ is happening not because of any particular worries - but because I’m probably having an oestrogen implant when I have the surgery, it’s a good idea to have a baseline mammogram.

Just In Case.

Also on the Just In Case To-Do list this week: getting an Enduring Power of Attorney, a Legal Will, and an Advanced Health Directive organised.

(Sue, if I die, you can have my fabric stash.  Not sure if that’s a blessing or a curse!!)

Oh, and the pre-admission check-list phone call from the hospital today raised another FUN!! task to-do: “With your legs together, shave, wax, or you can be shaved here at the hospital.” Um yeah, thanks.  “Would you like a catheter?” was another question that didn’t require a whole lotta thought - are you kidding?  Wet myself trying to use a pan or have a nice clean tube, what do YOU think!

Yep, welcome to Caityworld, Where Too Much Information Is Barely Enough!™

And in that spirit: This week I will CELEBRATE my LAST PERIOD EVER.

Not normally a cause for celebration - ever since I first got my period I have had a miserable time with it - pain, swelling, bloating, acne, migraines, persistent anaemia, constipation, mood swings, and medicinal consumption of vast quantities of chocolate.  I’ve tried every over-the counter “period pain” pill there is; tried altering my diet (but seriously - caffeine deprived Caity is NOT a Happy Fun Sparkly Caity!), exercising to ameliorate the pain, and being on various versions of The Pill.

I have spent waaaaaaaaaaaaay too much money on various products to catch “the flow” (although the best value ones by far are The Keeper or The Diva Cup - highly recommended if you’re comfortable with your body, squicky if you’re not).  I have spent hours soaking blood-stained knickers, jeans, skirts and pyjamas in napisan when the various tampons, pads etc failed.

I have not owned white undies in many many years.

When I had only just started getting The Monthly Monster, one month I ended up in hospital with suspected appendicitis. I was in dreadful pain, but then the blood arrived - and all of a sudden I was shoved out of the hospital bed, told to get dressed, and sent home with some incredibly wimpy headache tablets.

WAIT A SECOND!! A moment ago I was being taken seriously about how much pain I was in, but now you reckon I’m fine? THE PAIN HASN’T CHANGED!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!

I remember my Mum being rather excited and thrilled when I got my first ever period.  I was embarrassed.  She was emotional over her first daughter reaching such a momentous change: I was pissed off by the MESS and the inconvenience.

So after 28+ years of dealing with all this: Yeah, I’m celebrating its loss!!  There will be bubbly; there may even be cake.  I’m thinking possibly Friday or Saturday lunch or arvo tea, if you’re among my TWB circle and free around then….

In the meantime, just THROW IN THE CHOCOLATE AND NOBODY WILL GET HURT, OKAY?!?!?

We got to watch the first semi-final tonight (we have been on a Eurovision news BLACKOUT since the actual event on Tuesday) and I must say -I never knew Poland produced so many plastics. I don’t believe there is a single natural element left in their contestant:

(Trust me, those teeth were SCARY when she sang…)

Greece sent their usual Britney-esque bubbly performer (Britney before the drugs and shaved head, obviously); Belgium YET AGAIN sent a group wth an entirely made up language; political voting was in evidence even at this early stage (was there anyone who doubted Boznia Herzogovina would get in ?) and Ireland and Estonia sent joke acts.

Thrillingly - Finland are in the finals again with another hard rock act (minus Lordi’s rubber prosthetics this year) - pure 1980s long-haired bare-chested pleather-panted ROCK GODS!!

Bring on Semi Final TWO!!!

ARRRRRRRGH!!

I though I’d make a simple little skirt, nothing flash. I chose this pattern:

Dead simple, innit?

Bought cheap fabric which I thought would do for a knock-around sort of skirt.

BUT - first I cut it out in the wrong size. And blithely sewed it up without fitting cos well - I’m ALWAYS the biggest size, aren’t I.

Except I completely failed to take into account the recent weight loss. La la la, try it on to see hem length - and watch it fall straight to my ankles, since the waist is the only fitted place on the skirt. Oops.

Unpick the whole thing and start again. (And leave it for a few more days.)

Re-cut, sewed next size down. (Leave it for another few days.)

Decided to use invisible zip.

Put it in back to front.

Unpick.

Try another method of inserting invisible zip - hmm, right way this time, but not really invisible!

Mr Beloved (quite rightly) insists I have a cuppa tea.

Get out The Book (so glad I found it - safely filed under my sewing machine. D’OH!). When Ms Betzina says “Idiot Proof invisible zipper” - she means it’s even CAITY proof! (Although for a moment due to my complete directional dyslexia I thought I’d sewn it back to front again - but then I zipped it up. Ahem.)

But then - the waistband treatment on the pattern was STUPID. Using narrow (half inch wide) twill tape to finish the waistband as though you were using petersham? DOESN’T WORK. It just doesn’t. There isn’t enough width to turn the top of the waistband down.

No worries, I’ll buy petersham (it’s a ribbon, with unlocked edges so you can make it curve - see here for an illustration.) Eventually found some at Lincr*p today - in only one size, one colour, and well hidden away from any other ribbon. (Yeah, that makes sense… NOT!) And at $4.99 per metre!! When I know (thanks to the girls on Pattern Review) That I can buy the same width from the USA in a gazillion different colours , for $US 2.89 per yard… and the postage isn’t much.

But - I wanted to wear the skirt tomorrow, perhaps. So I lashed out ($2.99!) on a packet of pre-made bias binding. All was going FINE With that until… I notice I had sewn the invisible zipper in about a quarter of an inch HIGHER on one side than the other.

FLIPPIN’ HECK! I can’t believe all the hassles that have come up with one little skirt!! All stupid little mistakes that I shouldn’t be making - although, it HAS been a while since I’ve sewn clothes. Mostly because at my current size and shape it’s pretty much like sewing circus tents.

No progress photos - they’d mostly be of me TEARING MY HAIR OUT. But here’s a photo of the almost finished skirt:

Which is now TOO BIG again!

I don’t care. I’m going to hem the damn thing and take it in at the waist with a safety pin on each side for a couple of weeks.

(Actually, I might make it again next week- with the petersham waist band - and another size smaller.)