The Races

Yes, ladies (and gents!) - we've had that time of the year again - Spring Racing Carnival.

The season of hats, frocks, champagne and shenanigans. (And occasionally a horse race.)

You can tell it's close when the fridge looks like this...

More champagne than food!

When asked what I was wearing, my business partner Mandy would jump in and say A nightie and a Michael Jackson jacket. Not inaccurate, but not exactly talking it up either.

I suffered the usual indignity of the spray tan. God that process is awful! There you are in a paper G-string and shower cap in a black booth that is sadly, so glossy you can see yourself naked from every angle. I swear those girls don't get paid enough.

As has become tradition, we hosted clients on Oaks Day in a car park On The Rails. It was warm - but the rain was torrential. Karma got Mandy for being rude about my outfit - a veritable waterfall spilled from our shelter down the back of her coiffed head and expensive dress - laugh!!! (Well, I was laughing!)

Not us - but this was the day.

Eleanor decided she'd wear my dress on Stakes Day - a couple of days after Oaks. That was all fine until she decided to post a 'Who wore it better?' on Facebook. I did not give that my okay for this!!!

Anyway, I was winning the sympathy vote (and frankly, my shoes were more flattering to the leg!) when she gazumped me with this.

Game over :(

Sarcasm or sincerity?

So I got this note under my car windscreen.

I was leaving the office and Elle was with me. From a distance, it almost looked like a ticket. For once, it wasn't.

It was perplexing. I had parked adjacent to a narrow driveway, but snuggled forward as far as I could go. I thought I was fine. But it did seem slightly strange to thank someone on doing the right thing. Elle had her money on sarcastic. I had been aware of the tight space and tried my best. I struggled not to feel vilified. Anyway, maybe she was wrong.

At home, Geoff took Elle's side. Bugger. Maybe I was wrong?

Late last week, my business partner Mandy and I were heading back into the office after a meeting and passed the site where the note had been issued. We're usually too focused on work to chat about such trivialities, but as we were strolling past, I relayed the tale.

Oh, she said with confidence. That was sincere.
How do you know? I asked, in complete awe of her wisdom.
Because I parked there once and was hanging over a bit. Not only did I get a ticket but the guy who lives there was out the front calling the towing company. I think he has them on speed-dial.

So there you go people. There's no need to always assume the worst after all.

On The Gear

There's been a lot of media attention on the 'supplements' used by footballers lately, so I thought it was time to come clean and talk about my own foray into some pharmaceuticals  - in my case, not peptides, but HRT.

Please gasp is surprise that MWW could possibly be old enough to be going through 'the change' but yes folks, it seems the symptoms of peri-menopause are here - the main one really, being incredibly fucking irritable!!! I initially thought it was living with a 14 year old daughter, and I did feel considerably better after she got on that bus to boarding school, but I was still grumpier than I remembered I used to be. (Apparently this hormonal roller coaster effects your memory too - so maybe that's not true. I'll let you all be the judge of that.)

My GP sent me off to my secret-women's-business doctor, ie the gynecologist. (Men? Any of you left still reading?) I asked her if she could just write a script for everyone at home to tidy up and perhaps that would resolve my hair-trigger tendency to yell "Would you all please just pick your stuff up!!". She said if that were possible, she'd have written herself one of those years ago. Instead, she prescribed HRT patches.

Within a week, I felt noticeably better and my hair has stopped dropping out as well. The first might be psychosomatic but the second was tangible. Either way, it seems to be working.

Which brings me to my business partner, Mandy.... yes, she likes to remind anyone who cares to listen that I'm older than her by four and a half years, but she too can get a little short and snappy. I've already threatened her that one day, when she's not looking, I will quietly stick a patch on her!

Me & Mands

The Card

Some of you may have seen the article my business partner Mandy and I got in B&T (an industry mag) a couple of weeks ago. (If the type is coloured, it is a link - just in case that isn't apparent - in this case, to said article).

Elle commented that it was a great shot of Mandy - but perhaps not my best. 

'Yeah, well, Mandy picked it,' I said.

'Hmmmm.......' said Elle.

'Here's the one I put on our Thread FaceBook page, what do you think of that one?'

'That's a good one of Mandy too, and a better one of you,' she decided.

'Yes, well, I chose that one!'

I keep telling people this story - in front of Mandy! Because in truth, what happened was she sent out the release and forgot a photo. I shot her an email but she'd already realised. We were due at a meeting and she literally had to fly home, send a pic and get going again - no time for a considered selection. It was sent just after 12 noon and the article appeared at 2pm. She says I'm being unfair by not telling everyone this part of it and I keep tell her to stop ruining my story!!! 

Anyway, just to wrap it up, here's a scan of the card she gave me yesterday. I laughed so hard I nearly wet my pants!!!!

Just a bit of house keeping - a couple of people have asked how to comment if you receive these posts via email. You need to hit a link - usually the post title - which will take you onto the blog online and then you can comment. Although I'm tempted to request no comments on this post -  it is a joke - not a competition!!

T.F. Sunglasses

Here are my friend Mandy's T.F. sunglasses. That's Tom Ford. Original, stylish, genuine.... and rather expensive. Mandy was quick to point out that they even came with a lovely case to keep them in.

Here are my T.F. sunglasses. Two 4 Forty (dollars) from the local mall. Admittedly, not quite as stylish, but serve the same purpose. After I declined the additional expense of a not-very-special sleeve to put them in, they threw in an oh-so-practical zip-lock plastic bag.

By my maths, my T.F.s were less than 10% of Mandy's T.F.s. To some people, that's savvy. To others, it's a waste of money on a cheap imitation.

Which camp do you fall into?