Oct 10 2012
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My Ramblings

Pinterest Addict

How did I ever waste time in work before Pinterest? I can spend hours scrolling through other people’s adorable lives, cute kids, funny animals and interior decorating ideas. This is sheer fantasy football for women and I am addicted.

I even have my own account (I had to request an ‘invite to join’!), but am far too scared to start pinning – I wouldn’t know when to stop and I would probably end up wanting to live my Pinterest life rather than my real life. I’m sure I would find myself thinking, oh, I have the most incredible shoes that would go with that outfit, then realise they were in my pinterest wardrobe, not my real one.

Who are these pinners with their Boden-clad children, vast houses, oodles of spare time and a craft-box to die for? They make Scandinavian candle holders from birch wood logs, fashion keyrings from Champagne corks and create sensational art by gluing a few crayons onto canvas and blasting them with a hairdryer. They carve the most exquisite pumpkin designs, make home-made lollipops and still find time to post pictures of their grinning dogs and cute knitted cupcakes.

And now the Christmas pins are filtering through. It’s only a small trickle so far (too many pumpkins and ghouls jostling for space), but it’s sure to become a flood by November. How will I cope with pin-envy? How many glue sticks will I have to buy? Oh yes, I caved in and bought a glue-gun, the Pinterest weapon of choice. I just know I can decorate the whole house with only a stack of coloured card and some glue.

Two pinners have the right idea though – they pin the results of all the projects they have been inspired to try out from Pinterest and the results are very, ahem, reassuring…check out http://pinstrosity.blogspot.co.uk/ .

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Oct 09 2012
4 Comments
Daily Life

Going out on a work night…

Ooh, I’m going out on a work night! I haven’t been out much at all since being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, so this is BIG news. Fingers crossed, I’m well and truly in remission right now, so I’m going to make the most of it. Anyone with MS will know the dark spectre of a new relapse is always lurking round the corner, ready to pounce.

Up until very recently, just getting through the day and then falling headlong in the sofa used up all my energy. Having an evening out did not even cross my mind. Loading the washing machine was akin to running a marathon, cooking dinner from scratch was replaced by the microwave and life was scaled back to the absolute bare minimum needed to function.

So, decisions, decisions. What to wear? Can’t really wear the same as you’d wear on a Friday or Saturday night. Need to look as if I’ve just thrown together a chic outfit whilst juggling my oh-so busy life. The ‘no-effort, but somehow devastatingly fabulous’ look. A bit unstructured, but put-together. Does that make sense?

Right, now, got to think about what to have to drink. Soft drink? Maybe a bit unsophisticated. A mocktail? Bit naff. Wine? Well, I’m not driving, so possibly, but drinking so early in the week? Could be viewed as starting the weekend a little too early. Perhaps a spritzer then. Next, I have to think about how long to stay. We are meeting half six for seven (what does that even mean?). Should I turn up dead on half six and look a bit tragic or play it more mysterious by arriving just before seven?

Fleetingly, an image of me all cosied-up on the sofa with a good book pops into my mind. So tempting, so…..comforting and familiar. But, no, I am going out. And I can’t wait.

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Oct 08 2012
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Daily Life

Doing Housework the MS Way

MS and HouseworkI used to be a real neat-freak, probably a hangover from my tiny 1-room box in London years ago, when the sofa was next to the cooker and I could switch the kettle on from my bed. I was there until I was 8 months pregnant and could clean the shower by simply rubbing soap on my stomach and turning round.

Up until a year ago I was still pretty much the same until jaw-dropping fatigue hit me like a demolition wrecking ball. Standards had to slide, but rather than becoming depressed, I just came up with some handy hints, which I am now passing on to you:

  • Rip up your carpets and put down wooden flooring wherever possible, adding a few non-fluffy rugs if necessary. Majorly cuts down on dirt.
  • Chuck out most of your knick-knacks and ornaments – dust traps.
  • Use paper plates whenever you can. There’s some great designs now, don’t worry.
  • Use make-up remover wipes, then when you’re brushing your teeth use wipe to quickly clean sink. A bit icky, but small gestures count.
  • Fit dimmers to your lights and adjust accordingly – the less dust you see, the less it matters.
  • Borrow a small child. Put a feather duster in one of their hands and a lollipop in the other. Make up a fun game, but check they dust with the right one.
  • Invest in light-coloured furniture (IKEA, I salute you) – shows up way less dust.
  • If you must invite friends round, wait til it’s dark and light candles. Lots of them. And make sure there’s wine. Nothing matters after a couple of glasses.

If questioned by worried, well-meaning friends about the shabby state of your house, gently explain you are channeling the vintage, boho-chic vibe. William Morris once said, ‘have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful’. So that covers me and The Teenager then.

And don’t forget, experts reckon a little dirt is good for your immune system, so don’t feel guilty – you’re actually looking after yourself…

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Oct 07 2012
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Daily Life

Just chop it all off…

In my continuing quest to ‘try new things’, I decided to chop most of my hair off yesterday. I usually steer clear of hair salons as much as possible because:

  1. * I’m a whole generation older than most of the clients, grrr
  2. * I’m not ready for a bubble perm and tint just yet
  3. * I never, ever get the cut I ask for

Yet I was feeling strangely optimistic and full of hope as I tried a new hairdressers. I figured that if they could fit me in straight away, it was meant to be. And they could. I was given a look book, a strong coffee and the latest copy of Vogue. A child (it seemed) sashayed over and picked up my locks, tutted, exchanged glances with the child next to her and just about managed not to roll her eyes. I know, I know, I have let my whole hair-care regime lapse into grunge since being diagnosed with MS. It’s not been that high up on my list of priorities, but that’s all about to change…

The child, who turned out to be a mother-of-two, asked me what look I was aiming for and we discussed a few ideas. I like Keira Knightley’s style in that perfume advert, but then I like a lot of things that are just not going to happen. I was kitted out with a cape, plastic shoulder mat and towel and led over to the sink where my hair was washed, conditioned, massaged and pummelled into submission. Meekly, I followed her back to the chair and read a magazine until she was finished. Couldn’t look. Finally, I had to. Hmm. Ok. It’s kind of short. Oh, that’s a lot of hair on the floor. But I actually like it. It’s swishy!

I paid up and bounced out of the salon, pretending I was attracting admiring glances as I walked back to the car. Back home, I did what every woman does after the hairdressers and raced to the biggest mirror I could find, turning this way and that, mussing it up, mentally working out if I could live with it. I think I can, although my neck’s a bit cold. And I sure don’t look like Keira Knightley.

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Oct 06 2012
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Work and Studying

Interview nerves

Is it just me or are job interviews like blind dates? You need to make a dazzling impression in 3 seconds flat, you spend ages on your outfit and you practice your witty laugh and come-back comments in the mirror. I had an interview yesterday and I always reckon Friday interviews are a good bet – everyone’s looking forward to the weekend and we can just kick back and chill. Wouldn’t you know though, it was a job I applied for and promptly forgot about as I was only asked to submit my CV and a covering email. Yet I can spend hours and hours on carefully-crafted, 10-page long personal statements and not hear a peep.

I took an inordinate amount of time selecting a suitable outfit, painstakingly applied make-up so that it looked like I wasn’t wearing any, teased my unruly hair into bouncy waves and applied perfume very liberally. I read up on the company, memorised facts and wrote a few tiny crib notes on my wrist, carefully hidden under my watch. Unfortunately, as this whole process took over two hours, I downed gallons of coffee to steady my nerves. By the time I left the house, every nerve was buzzing, but, hey, I was on form, I was flying.

At the reception desk, a jaded receptionist slapped a very large ID sticker on my coat and commanded me to sit and wait until I was ‘collected’. I was then lead to the most open-plan office ever designed where the workers were handing round birthday cake, casting sad little glances in my direction,  as I huddled in the tiny corner sitting-area.

Finally I was called in to The Panel and an hour (an hour!) later, I was led back to the lift and sent on my way. I won’t be cracking open the Champagne just yet, but I think I have a good chance. If I am successful I get called back for a second, then a third interview, gulp. Wish me luck and watch this space…

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