5 days to go
Very busy and no time to post anything of entertaining value. Hands up if you want to see a picture of the wedding dress and accessories?
Not mentioned in all the wedding fracas is the fact that Ladycracker, publicist to the almost famous, is hanging up her speed dial and contact book for the greener pastures of label management. I can't say that I'm unhappy to see the back of publicity. I've been doing the business for at least 6 years and I'm way past my use by date. Only two days left of fighting back tears at the thought of writing another press release. Two days left of enduring the malaise I feel every time I open my task pad and only two days left of sighing every time I pick up the phone. Hallelujah.
I know a lot of people would kill for my job and for long time I was really happy, but my life needs some fresh challenges and I'm more than happy to guide a younger person into making my role their own. Now if only they would find a replacement...
Woman After Bath, 1920.
After enjoying another torturous session at the gym last night, I went home to two little girls practically jumping out of their skin with excitement.
"LADYCRACKER! CLOSE YOUR EYES! GO IN THE BATHROOM!".
So I went into the bathroom and was presented with candlelight and a welcoming bath, beside which two little chairs were placed so my step daughters could regale me with tales of their day. Little 4 even got out the scrubbing brush and gave my back a once over.
While I have always enjoyed my solitude in the bathroom, I reckon that last night's was about the best I have ever had. At the risk of sounding even more sentimental than I already do... aren't they angels?
No posts lately because the only thing on my mind is organising a freaking wedding and frankly, I'm not sure just how interesting my musings on that particular subject can be.
An interesting side effect of my obsession is directly related to my daily struggle to get through a day without causing grievous bodily harm to my personage. No word of lie, I have an awful propensity to injury, great or small, and have basically entered a low risk lifestyle this week after almost breaking my ankle in a poorly judged dance move at my hen's party. By low risk I mean, no dancing, no sport, no stairs, no running with scissors, wrestling sharks, filming stingrays and most importantly NO BOOZE.
Did anyone see "Look Both Ways" last year? I'm basically treading the same ground as Justine Clarke's character Meryl in that film. Every corner I turn holds vision of calamitous death via falling safes or horrific road accidents. I envisage slicing appendages in freak carrot dicing incidents and take a deep breath every time I step out of the shower in case I fall and have to try and drag my mangled body to the phone for ambulance assistance.
However, these morbid visions of death have helped in some regard. I have been lucky enough to stumble on my preferred means of interment. A Swedish company Promessa, will freeze dry you body in liquid nitrogen and collapse it with high frequency vibrations, creating a powder that is sealed in a organic coffin made of cornstarch. This package will then decompose over 6 to 12 months. (EDIT: I'm not sure exactly where this link came from. It may have been Boing Boing)
So if my anxiety riddled self does do the unthinkable and shuffles off it's mortal coil while attempting a rather trying Jazz Ballet move before September 16, you can be sure that instructions for a call to Sweden have been duly placed.
A quick little link that reminds me of the spirit one of my favourite bloggers. I think she, and others, will get a kick out of this.