The Incredible Shrinking Woman

My new studio is an odd place. Or, I should say, my stable mates are odd. Actually, they're probably not odd at all, I'm just used to working alone, and I've never spent time with packs of photographers.

Anyway, one of them, a wedding photographer, came up to me today and said, quite unprovoked, 'You know, you're REALLY TINY'.

Mmmm. I've never learnt how to deal with this sort of comment. I tend to just say 'ah, yup' or something similarly inarticulate. I'm guessing if you replied 'Yeah, and you're really enormous', people wouldn't respond well.

'So tell me', she continued (they're persistent, these wedding people), 'Do you spend a lot of time at the gym or really watch what you eat?'.

Mostly, the fact that I'm a scrawny little creature is genes. Is this what she wanted to hear - or does it sound smug? If I said I was an egg-white-omelette-eating-gym-junkie (a complete lie), would that be better?

And I hate the word 'tiny' almost as much as the word 'petite'. Why are we supposed to feel better ourselves the SMALLER and less significant we are?

Oops, might be veering off into a rant.

On a more positive note, I did enjoy today's fashion shoot in the studio, which involved beautiful young men who paraded around shirtless for much of the day. One of them had classic sulky model demeanour; the other was positively chirpy.

10

Since I am, albeit undeservedly, on Imogen's blogroll, I'll do the 10 Things About Me:

1. I can lift and wiggle my eyebrows individually (or in different directions at once), which has proven to be an underrated talent, extremely good for amusing children and/or expressing disdain. I can't say it's a lucrative skill, though.

2. As well as hypermobile eyebrows, I have hypermobile joints, which means I am weirdly bendy and - at my tender age - already have arthritis.

3. I have an extreme fear of heights. Standing on a chair is about my limit. Every so often I have a go at dealing with it, but it always comes back (even worse).

4. I also have a strong aversion to being upside down. This hinders my yoga practice, so this year my yoga ambition (although not sure you should be 'ambitious' in yoga) is to master some inversions.

5. I love clothes and shoes, but I HATE shopping for them.

6. I have worked as a university tutor/lecturer, primary school teacher, legal book editor, artist's model (yup, try that for body acceptance) and corporate copywriter, amongst other odds and sods. These days I am mostly a copywriter.

7. My children's names both come from Catcher in the Rye. Two of our pets are named from To Kill a Mockingbird.

8. I have hazel eyes, but when I was a child, my brother used to tell people that I had 'weasel' eyes. He was probably just jealous because his are BROWN.

9. My favourite rom com is When Harry Met Sally.

10. I re-read Pride and Prejudice once a year, usually in winter - call it 'comfort reading'.

End of Days

Late February is a funny time of year. It's nearing the end of summer (although yesterday was 34 degrees, so felt like the MIDDLE), the kids are definitely back in the school groove, it's getting light later in the mornings.

The last of the 'new year' feeling has definitely worn off. But this year feels like a very different year to me. I suppose it is in lots of ways: we are in a new house; our oldest is in high school; I am working in a new studio, instead of in my little shed in the back garden. Change, new routines. All good, but making me aware of how quickly things pass.

Ok, before I get all nostalgic and maudlin, I'll change topics. On Saturday afternoon, I had to go to my office to pick up some files, and on the way back I popped in to some secondhand markets, on the lookout for an old desk. No luck. But I did spy a cute pair of shoes; and then a caramel/tan leather jacket. It's not my fault they were both my size, is it?

They will definitely feature in my winter wardrobe. When I told my brother I'd bought a leather jacket, he said 'Don't you have one already?'. I had to explain to him that what I already have is a red leather COAT and a brown SUEDE coat, but not a caramel/tan leather jacket. He gave me that look.

Office Space

Really, there is a movie called Office Space that had Jennifer Aniston in it. Who'da thunk it ...

So, my prolonged absence and my excuses for it? Yeah, you know, busy. Getting settled into the routine of the new school year, FINALLY getting the library shelves finished (unpacking and sorting hundreds of books), and getting set up in my NEW office. Plus the weather in Sydney has been so disgusting - wet, humid, hot - that all I would have done if I'd blogged is complain about that ... which I'm managing to do anyway.

Back to the 'office', which isn't a very accurate description. I have a desk in a share studio in Balmain, a couple of suburbs away. The front of the space is actually a photographic studio - this afternoon as I was leaving to get home post-school, I walked past a topless girl being made up in our coffee area, as you do - and six or seven of us have cubicles in the back part. It's all photographers, so I'm the odd one out. So far I'm quite liking it. It is better than working in the garage.

Enough about work. Today I went to get my hair done and popped into a new vintage (hmmm, nice oxymoron there) shop next to the salon. I tried on this fantastic 60s dress that made me look like I have a tiny waist (truth is, I am more or less straight up and down) and even a bosom. Brilliant. Except I couldn't breathe or sit down, so I reluctantly had to pass on it ... Damn.

Saturday Night Fever (6)

Ok, so this is a bit late. Dramas with the puppy ...

On Saturday night, I made pork goulash from a Jamie Oliver recipe (pic from Channel 4 website). I know it's not exactly what you need on a summer's evening, but since summer is when capsicum is in season, it makes sense from that perspective.

I can't say the children were huge fans, but I loved it. In fact, tonight I am going to have leftovers with egg noodles as Andrew is at some posh work dinner so I can eat on the couch in my yoga pants while reading a magazine. Bliss.