A Healthy Level Of Insanity: age

I woke up this morning feeling relaxed. Tiddles was at a sleepover last night so we had a lovely lie-in this morning - not that we don't when she is here, just that the house was a little quieter. Anyway, having decided that I really should drag my lazy backside out of the bed and go have a bath, I took a quick look in the mirror to decide whether I should wash my hair or do a salvage job with the hair straighteners.
WHAT IS THAT? I'm not even joking when I say I had grown something below my right eye in the night. An eye bag (I think) the size of a suitcase, sitting on my cheek like its waiting to go on holiday, all packed up and ready to go. No joke, this thing is horrid. When I went to bed last night my face was normal, well as normal as it usually is, and now this thing has decided to join me in the night.
Even Maintenance Man, who is usually very good at lying about things such as "does my bum look big in this?", made a comment to the effect of "oh god what is that?" Now I know its bad.
Make up - that's what we need. Wash face, slap on moisturiser and hmmmm yes, concealer and face powder. No, no, no, that's not good. Now it looks like a third eye, only this one is closed. I feel like Scaramanga, even if he has 3 nipples not 3 eyes. Wash face again.
Google it!! That's the way to find out anything. Google has the answer to any question you may wish to pose and I use it regularly. Google will save me. Google will give me the cure.
I HATE GOOGLE !!!
Apparently, I am getting old - like I needed stuffing Google to tell me that for gods sake. Inherited genes (cheers mum) and age, along with bad lymphatic drainage (maybe I should just make a few holes somewhere to help things along then) are the cause of this problem and it MAY, not will, sort itself out in a few days/weeks.
Great to I now have to carry my new friend around with me indefinitely. Hooo bloody ray... not!!
So I am destined to a possible life of luggage face. I am starting to imagine what life is going to be like if it grows, am I going to trip over the damn thing all the time? Will I have to tuck it into my jeans? Could I poke it behind my right ear perhaps? Its all too disturbing for words.
Any words of wisdom on a cure would be much appreciated. Until then, I reckon there is only one thing for it - I need MORE WESTLIFE..
Obviously I didn't have nearly enough Youth Serum so if you read this boys,
Heeeeeeeeeelp.
xxxx

I have decided that there is nothing like a bit of silliness to make you feel younger. Last weekend was the weekend I had been looking forward to for months. Yes, I am an unashamed massive Westlife fan. Sorry, but there is nothing wrong with a little boyband fantasy - even at my age !! Maintenance Man offered to be on kiddy duty for the weekend so I could go and indulge my fantasies with my sister, (we shall call her Spa Chick), who had also planned a day of retail therapy to follow. So a real treat for me, a weekend away.

The drive was spent visualising my idea of the forthcoming concert - you see, although I am a little over 25, I have only ever been to see 2 other music concerts and one of those was when I was 19!! The silliness had started a few weeks ago when I happened to say to Spa Chick that I thought we should take some pants to throw on the stage during the show.. as is customary I believe? The conversation went on to figure out how far a pair of thongs might actually travel (not far we reckoned), so maybe a tennis ball in the gusset was the way to go. Now, at this point our sons, both teenagers, had decided that this was definitely not the way for their "respectable" mothers to behave. Of course, this was now a great game of wind-em-up, in repayment for all the years of tantrums and bad behaviour we had suffered from them. Talk of which kind of thong we should buy, whether we should write our phone numbers on them and of course the impending posting of the photos onto facebook and you tube ensued, much to their total disgust. Worried looks and requests for us to behave properly were quickly followed by comments about "middle aged women" caught on TV behaving badly. As we told them, we intend to grow old disgracefully.!

Well, having spent the afternoon trying to decide which outfit Shane (W) would like the most, with Spa Chick making comments along the lines of it not really mattering if it was going to end up on the dressing room floor anyway, (you see how things were getting very silly now), we ventured off to meet the boys - Westlife of course. After locating the bar at the O2 for some pre-show drinks, we decided this was the time to take the photos of ourselves with the thongs. Of course we had no intention of launching them - our seats were unfortunately too far away from the stage, even with a tennis ball, and we figured the people in the rows in front of us may not appreciate thong hats. Even so we had brought them in our bags to continue the charade, not realising there was going to be a security bag search on our way in. A little embarrassing for Spa Chick as hers were discovered by the doorman..... worryingly he didn't seem shocked or fazed at all????

Into the arena, find the seats, sit down, take a breath ---- who are all these people? Shane didn't mention he had invited 19,998 other people. Gutted!! Don't want to share. I feel like a sulky teenager. A voice somewhere in the back of my head reminds me IT'S NOT REAL!!! Shut-up, it's real tonight and I am going to block all these others out, just for a couple of hours. Converstaion continues between Spa Chick and I, trying to decide who will have who for the evening (cos we really DID have the choice you know), and whether Shane (W) would like the younger or slightly more mature model between us.

So, the lights go down, the anticipation is high, I feel like I am going to burst with the prospect of an evening with Shane, Nicky, Kian and Mark (well not so much Mark - sorry), and there they are. OMG -- they are small....... Oh well, look at the screen and they return to normal size, although it could be fun to have a pocket version. Well the show was amazing, we danced, we sang, we screamed like never before, and when the boys came out over the audience on a floating steel girder, bring them so so close, just a little closer, come on, come on.. Oh Bugger!! Still too far away for my liking. I really must get front row seats next time GGRRRR.
It was about now that Shane decided to say hi to his wife and kids who were in the audience too. You are joking right? You cant say that Shane. I paid good money for this and tonight you are all mine -- not married (like me too). The sound of 20,000 hearts sinking was BIG. You can kinda go off someone you know, although this feeling went away real quick when I reminded myself there was always Nicky or Kian (prob also married but don't think about it).

Carry on singing and dancing, the mood is high again, peoples banners are being read out by Kian and I have to say I totally agree with the one that stated "The Tighter the Trousers, the Better the View". AND THEN... someone threw pants!!! Not skimpy thongs like ours, oh no, these were big. Very very big, and had a message scrawled across them not fitting for posting on this blog. I'm sure as Kian was reading this he was thinking "I would much rather have Liesl's thongs"??? Next time Kian, cos I will be getting front row seats for sure.

By the time it was all over, I was feeling like a 17 year old again -- (I know its not that long ago, ha ha I wish ). Do we need creams and potions, nips and tucks or jabs of botox to be young again? No - a little fantasy and an evening of complete silliness is without a doubt the way to do it. Well it worked for me.. just for a while. xxxx

"Middle-aged" my A****