I had a grey hair incident a month or so ago. I was meeting a friend for lunch, and I hadn’t seen her for about 18 months. I arrived at the restaurant first, and sat upstairs. When my friend arrived, I could hear her downstairs, talking to the waiter.

“Hi,” she said, “I’m meeting a friend, long dark hair, is she here yet?”

“I’m not sure,” said the waiter, “there’s a woman upstairs with long grey hair, might that be her?”

Hmmm.

I had a similar grey hair themed happening a few months ago after I’d met one of the young women fiancé worked with.

“Your girlfriend is really cool isn’t she?” she apparently said to him afterwards.

“Is she?” he said. (I can understand his confusion.)

“Yes,” she said. “I know a lot of celebrities are doing that grey hair thing, but you have to be really brave to dye your own hair grey.”

I laughed a lot at that one.

So, back to the question, should I dye my grey hair?

No. 

That’s my simple answer.

If you’re wondering why I wouldn’t dye my hair if it’s grey at 37, answer me this – why should I dye it? Why on earth would I spend time and money, and probably damage my hair in the process, just to change its colour artificially? Seriously, give me one good reason.

Apart from anything else, I quite like the confusion on people’s faces when they see my grey hair against my smooth, chubby baby face. When I drop in that my oldest daughter is graduating this year, they really don’t know what to do. It’s like I’ve told them I make a career as an international ballet dancer. (That would be less believable.)

Plus, I want to look like this when I grow up, I think it’s an ace colour:

should I dye my grey hair?

Sure, some people are going to say that it’s about how you feel about yourself, and that dying your hair makes you feel younger and more confident, but I tend to think that if your confidence comes down to the colour of your hair, that there are bigger issues at stake.

What do you think? Should I dye my grey hair?

Image – Volt Collection/shutterstock

cough medicine

I’m going to give you a little summary of what I’ve been doing over the last few days.

COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH.

And then a little cup of tea.

COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH COUGH.

Are you getting the idea? View Post

I’m not having a good day.

It started like this:

You can see where this is going can’t you? I’m talking about the kind of hormones that mean you spend the whole night tossing and turning, wondering if you are secretly a failure and everyone is laughing quietly about you somewhere, and your boyfriend is with you only because he feels a bit sorry for you and isn’t sure how to tell you.

Bee replied with an excellent point, and I couldn’t help but feel that if men were crippled by self-doubt, spots, bloating, sugar cravings, actual bleeding from their bodies, not to mention the uncontrollable urge to cry in the middle of a shop because you hear a sad story about a cat, that we might have come up with some sort of solution.

You know what I mean? View Post

It’s almost Valentine’s Day again, although I’m sure it was only Christmas yesterday.

I know that some people really go in for the whole heart shaped box of chocolates/singing teddy bear aspect of the occasion but I’ve never really been that fussed about it. I’m usually grateful for anything I get, unless it’s something hideously tacky that they should know I would hate, like a bunch of £2 flowers from Morrisons, (the amount of effort clearly put in with that sort of gift is actually just a bit embarrassing. I would rather just have nothing.) Or, heaven forbid, the infamous “Love Log”.

One of my favourite bits about the day though is seeing just how vile the array of Valentine’s gifts becomes every year, as shops desperately try and attract attention with cringey window displays and even buy-one-get-one-free deals on cards. (Suspicious.) I’ve looked through the internet to try and find the tackiest gift ever made, and I think I’ve come pretty close.

This monster mug

Really, nothing about it is okay. It sort of makes me want to smash it on the ground a little bit. I feel a bit bad for Simon, because someone obviously thinks that he is their love monster. I don’t think so.

horrible tacky valentine's gifts View Post

Exciting news guys!!

I had an email this morning from a bingo company. Apparently, “from a short analysis our team has done your website audience is matching our custodemographic which means there is a great business potential for a partnership between our brands.”

How cool is that!? 

So cool in fact, that it prompted me to analysis my own custodemographic, which I assume must be something to do with custard. According to my research, my custodemographic shows that my blog is generally well suited to tarts.

custodemographic, egg custard View Post

We were sat having dinner this week, doing the usual thing of ‘let’s spend quality time together as a family and try to sound interested about each other’s days.’

“What did you do at school today?” I asked Belle, (obviously. My fiancé is too old for school.)

“PE,” she said. “It was fine, I got a lollipop.”

“A lollipop?” I asked, surprised.

“Yes,” she said, “because I did well in the stretching exercises and sit ups.”

lollipops View Post

Regular readers may remember that last summer I went through a bit of a bad patch emotionally.

I sort of whispered that, to be ironic about the fact that we aren’t meant to talk about mental health difficulties, but let’s be honest, we all know I was a bit of a wreck. It’s one thing to feel a bit down in the dumps, another to get as far as the kitchen, shaking, only to burst into tears and run back to bed, feeling completely unable to put a teabag in the cup.

That’s life though isn’t it? We all go through shitty times, just like we go through ace times, and none of it lasts, even the good stuff.

While I was feeling iffy, I tried a lot of things to perk myself up – I read a lot about fear and positive thinking, I played relaxation CDs and uplifting music and I listened to podcasts from an overly optimistic American man who repeatedly told me how awesome I was, and how, if I ever felt down, I should hold a pencil between my teeth and look around me at the glory of nature.

(I did do the pencil thing on many an occasion – it changes your expression and tricks your brain into thinking you’re smiling. It’s pretty effective as a short term measure, just like sitting up straight and lifting your eyes. Your brain is easily fooled.)

mindfulness View Post