It’s Only A Number. Isn’t It?

Oh joy. I will be forty 39 plus 1 in less than half a year. I won’t be celebrating, but rather I shall be holding a memorial service to my first 40 years, along with lashings of wine and copious amounts of cake.

To help me feel even more inadequate than usual, The Sunday Times Style magazine thoughtfully published a list of ’40 Things To Do Before You’re 40.’Here’s some of the ones I haven’t done and have no hope of doing before August:

  • Get an accountant – ha ha thud. That’s me laughing my head off.
  • Bin all your tights and replace the lot with Falke – unfashionable me has no idea what/who Falke is. Hopeless.
  • Have a kinky dream about a colleague – the builder? Seriously?
  • Go to Glastonbury – nope.
  • Host an afterparty that people still talk about years later – what the heck’s an afterparty and why have I never been to one?
  • Stop wearing lycra – never.
  • Spend a year with an incredibly flat stomach – and give up Maltesers and toast? Crazy.
  • Unwrap a diamond – not unless it’s a Diamond White cider party pack.
  • Grow your hair so long that it covers your nipples – one word – why?

But here’s some I have done:

  • Decide whether you want children – yup, I’m keeping the Teenager.
  • Be able to order wine confidently – ‘Cheapest bottle of your house white, and make it snappy, my good man.’
  • Pull an all-nighter, drink sambuca, dance on the tables, then go straight to work – too many times to mention.
  • Live abroad long enough to get a taste for the local breakfast – those were the days. Sigh.
  • Witness a birth – I was definitely there when The Teenager was born.
  • Perfect your signature roast chicken – Waitrose, I love you.

Don’t you just hate these lists? Here’s my kind of list – recently-announced top 5 snacks in the UK (drum roll….) bacon butties came out top, no doubt helped along by my recent alarming consumption of them. They were closely followed by cheese on toast, sausage rolls, Cornish pasties and Scotch eggs. Now that’s a list you can get your teeth into…

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16 thoughts on “It’s Only A Number. Isn’t It?

  1. Jenny says:

    I have no idea what Falke is either!
    I’d rather watch Glastonbury from my sofa.
    Not done many of those on the list and I’m past the big 40. I am, however, married to an accountant!!!

    • stumbling in flats says:

      Hi there,
      I’m with you on the Glastonbury one. Can’t think of anything I’d rather not do! At least you can tick the accountant one off your list!
      Honestly, these lists seem to be designed by 21 year old fashion interns. Nearer by birthday, I will draw up my own bucket list…

  2. What a hideous list! I MUCH prefer your Top 5 (well, maybe not the Scotch eggs…they sound vaguely alarming).

    Ms. CrankyPants’ Top 5 Things to Do Before Noon:
    1. Drink coffee.
    2. Eat breakfast.
    3. Check video recorder for anything featuring Andrew Lincoln.
    4. Watch anything recorded featuring Andrew Lincoln. If nothing with AL, don’t despair. Watch something else.
    5. Take a shower.

    There! Attainable goals (the shower bit might be the only challenge), and no Falke (??) in sight.

    • stumbling in flats says:

      hey Cranky!
      Yup, the list is pretty grim. I am obviously not in the fash-pack.
      You must add Scotch eggs to your list. i won’t describe them as that will put you off for life.
      Your day sounds brilliant – hope you’ve started watching him in This Life??

      • Er, yeah, I had a feeling about those Scotch eggs. Somewhere I must’ve heard about them and tried to block it.

        Thanks for reminding me about the other show. Will check NetFlix at once! Horrifyingly, I’m RE-WATCHING the Walking Dead. They’re having a marathon of the first three seasons leading up to the season finale Sunday [sob].

        • stumbling in flats says:

          Guess what??? Just watching a film where he made a fleeting appearance. Made In Dagenham. Bit of a British film though.
          Also, thinking about Scotch eggs, when you visit our shores, you must also try a pickled egg. They sell them in pubs and they’re just delicious (evil laugh….)

          • oooh, you are evil! You can’t fool me, though: I’ve seen/avoided eggs bobbing in cloudy red (WHY IS IT ALWAYS RED??) water in bars. On one memorable trip to London, a friend of mine ate a horrid-looking sausage/hotdog that was in a display case in a pub. It looked like it had been there since 1982.

          • stumbling in flats says:

            Only ever to be eaten as a dare! Am sure they ring a bell when someone orders one and everyone stops and stares.

  3. Sally says:

    Have to comment and add onto the Falke issue. Having had a lifelong issue with very large big toes constantly breaking through the toes of new tights after one wear I decided a new approach was needed. I paid out more money for an Austrian brand of tights called Wolford. Really not cheap but on a cost per wear level .Phenominal! Indestructible and now essential winter wear – Velvet 50 denier a veritable winter leg saviour. Falke is also Austrian I thnk. They are slightly cheaper than Wolford but still soooooooo worth the money. Husband likes the advertising photos. :-). Apparently if Helmut Lang does the photography it’s an art form and not just lots of very scantily clad ladies

    • stumbling in flats says:

      So Falke are Austrian!! Bit like that singer Falco who sang ‘Rock Me Amadeus’? (great song).
      Why am I writing nonsense again?? Must be the essay I’m stuck on, meh.
      I will look out for Wolford’s next winter as I really don’t think I can get through another cold spell without any. Have had to resort to woolly long Johns. Soooo not glamorous!

  4. Sally says:

    Scotch eggs – bloody marvellous! Oh and yeah the day cannot start until after that first morning coffee!

    • stumbling in flats says:

      Scotch eggs rock! Maybe we should send some to America 🙂 for Ms CrankyPants. In return, she could send us Candy Corn (Kandy Korn??).

      • Hm. Suspect the quality of the Scotch eggs might not suffer too much with overseas travel?

        Candy Corn. Although Kandy Korn is fun, too. I can also send you my STILL half-eaten bag of jellybeans. I’m quite sick of them. Why did I buy such a massive bag? Shall I pack everything with the Litter Kwitter and the Cat Genie? (You might want to wash the candy when it arrives, just in case.)

        • stumbling in flats says:

          Yes please! Just one thing though, how can you keep a bag of jelly beans for so long?? If it was me, I’d just be chucking them back, lol.

          • Did you see that bag?? It is ginormous, and I’ve had many jellybean-chucking sessions.

            oh dear. Cats mewling downstairs. litter box…DAMN

          • stumbling in flats says:

            Only in America, eh?? Our jelly bean bags here are tiny. And expensive. My son will be a happy peep next year!

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