So one of my friends pointed out a mutual friend is currently trying to fall pregnant and has been told by a certain hippy character we know that she will come by with some henna to help her dye her hair. Hair dye apparently is not good for embryos or foetuses.
I took a deep breath. ‘Isn’t this’, I asked, ‘The same person you said you had a glass of wine with the other day. Except you felt ill after one glass and told me she was happy to finish the bottle.’
Indeed it was.
I admit to being a terrible hypocrite when it comes to my health. I will surmise regretfully after the fact that pickling my liver may not be a great idea and attempt to run it off the next morning with a mouth full of cottonwool and lungs that feel vacumn packed
I will contemplate and commiserate my love handles as I wedge a doughnut into my mouth.
I will suffer the burdens of a headache loudly and irritably while attempting to refuse pain killers while pouring caffeine into my system in the form of very strong coffee.
I admit to all of this. I know that if I was to be a healthy, well preserved earth child, bountiful and beautiful these choices I make are probably flawed.
I was still vaguely insulted by the logic and lifestyle choices of my former friend even though it really is the pot calling the kettle black.
In this instance I’d probably continue to colour my hair as the lesser of two evils as I’m not actually ingesting colourant directly into my body (well, yes through my scalp into my brain but as I’m not drinking it I feel it’s sort of acceptable). But I certainly wouldn’t be drinking.
Just like I quite like spray deodorants even though they are supposed to be environmentally unfriendly and there are scare stories of aluminium poisoning through your pores. But I’ll probably continue to risk it although I avoid antiperspirants like the plague unless in black tie.
I’ll happily consume fruit/veg/dry goods well beyond the use by date as I’m not good at reading them but go off how wrinkly/mouldy/wilted something looks. But catch me with a bloated can or funny smelling meat. I have been known to throw four chicken breasts (in date) into the bin because they came via an online shop and I had no idea what the driver had done that day but the breasts smelt rank on opening.
Modern living means much of what you do is going to be bad for you. But it’s about which battles you pick to staying healthy.
My parents in their infinite wisdom elected to send me to an all girls school. I think the logic worked something like this:
There would be less distractions.
I would never have the excuse that girls are bad at maths or science compared to boys.
There would be less worries on many fronts, from bullying to worrying about what happens behind the tennis courts at lunch.
I grew up believing I could get through the door before a boy, without him having to open it for me. I took it as a personal affront if he tried to pay for something. I believed I was at least as good if not better than my peers.
The strange thing was, once given the choice who I could hang out with, many of my best friends were now of the opposite sex. True, a number of them were gay so I had the compromise of a gossip/fashion pal with the testosterone, but yes, many were male.
The other day I dropped in on a friend who agreed to keep something for me for a day or so. He told me to meet him at the pizzeria. Turned out he had two other friends there. They spent the better half of the hour I was there talking about stuff I didn’t understand or relate to. Mostly organising a party I wasn’t invited to. Otherwise discuss fitness plans and marathons, which is also something I really don’t care for. If you want to run, run – personally I think we evolved to drive cars and create trains for a reason.
Either way, it put me on edge. I don’t really blame my friend that much. He was pretty quiet in the conversation and did try ask me how I was, just noone else cared to know the answer. The other members of the party were a transvestite and a girl with curly hair.
My friend invited me for dinner. The girl with curly hair was meant to be there too. He told me she was cool and I should get to know her better. I told him I found her unnnecessarily aggressive and overly protective of him despite her having a boyfriend and I had seen her subsequently and she ignored me point blank.
He pointed out I had probably misunderstood and had come across pretty hard core to her too. Probably. I admit to being defensive when backed into a corner. Usually if it is not soap operas I can participate in conversation. That evening freaked me out a bit.
Either way I have seen her again since without him being there. She is still ignoring me. I think it’s like two magnets. She clearly wants her own way a lot. Unfortunately so do I. We were always destined to be best friends or detest each other. Quite frankly, the bit I know of her I found really dull. I’m sure she found me equally trite. We will just have to be competitors on the opposite side of the fence that is the friend in the middle and the occasions I sometimes see her in passing.
What a shame. NOT.