I'm Done With Tilting At Decorative Windmills.

Welcome Back to the Wonderfully Wide World of Self-Obsession!

Phew! What a few days I've had.

So far, I'm doing badly with Climate Change. Yesterday Sydney had the hottest November day in Recorded History. At 3pm, the Mercury hit 43 degrees c. Isn't that a wonderfully arcane term? I'm sure the good people at Google don't use an instrument containing mercury to tell them how hot it is. Or a weather vane in the shape of a hen either.

Talking of Google, last night I was sooo hot that I got out of bed where I had two fans mercilessly blowing on me to check the temperature at 12.30 on my Google Home page. It told me it was 24 degrees c.

I didn't believe them. It felt far hotter. I stomped back to bed wondering if dying from Being Hot felt like being smothered.

Earlier in the day, I took refuge in a tepid bath. It did nothing.

But when I was getting out of it, I received a Nasty Shock. Suddenly, I caught a glimpse of the back of my thighs in a v. low-lying bathroom mirror. I had never seen them from this angle before.

I was Rivetted. How could I have dragged them around all these years & not known what they really looked like?

I'm now at the point of the story where I want to make some salient point or other. Maybe an Important Realisation. A Universal Truth. Or maybe just some Slightly Self-Loathing Remark.

I can't think of anything:

It gets hot. I go sit in a tepid bath. I get out & catch my thighs in a low-slung mirror. They look Craterous. I'm shocked. That's It.

Oh, I know the point. It was so that I could make up An Entirely New Word. I bet you've never heard the word 'Craterous' before, have you?

Today the temperature more or less went back to Normal. Whatever that is.

But I didn't.

Look look look at me applying lip gloss while I'm tilting at Decorative Windmills.

Now, there's a term that I've never known the meaning of. Until now. I had it going around my head like an Earworm so I consulted The Oracle, Wikipedia & found out.

Yes, I've always thought that there's an enormous resemblance between me & Don Quixote. But that's all about to change. No more windmills . Or dragons. They don't exist except in Harry Potter.

Oh, here's something about me that you would never have thought.

I'm a huge fan of Harry Potter. But that's a whole other story.

Meanwhile, do look at my Toy Chanel outfit. Such a pity that the huge black flower that I had artfully placed on my waist is not really visible. Sue, my Close Colleague commented that she thought it looked like it was growing outside of me like an external fetus.

Perhaps I should hop into bed before this blog entry gets any weirder.