In the week where I decided to stop killing myself, and other adventures.

So I have decided to stop killing myself. I know I do not like smoking anymore. I am totally hocked up and in love with evil nicotine. In my grand plan, I will replace nicotine with exercise and finally will have the ass that I want.

I think it is a big lifestyle change for me and I will have to buy all new clothes.
When you give up smoking, they say it is best to go ahead and do it without telling anyone. No fanfare or fuss lest you create extra pressure on yourself. I have abided by these wise words and am just going to stop. Tomorrow is World No Tobacco Day so I will be smugly be able to watch all the anti-smoking ads while secretly wanting to tear my hair out and eat a block of chocolate.

I also had a house guest for a few days. Nikki from Styling You came to stay in all her glory. Jack took one look at her and started calling her Princess Nikki because she is so shiny and fresh, in complete contrast to his own mother. They became fast and firm friends and Harry loved her because she had cool apps on her iPad. Mr Woog loved her because he got the chance to be silent while we talked at each other for three days (and we were recovering from the world’s biggest argument from the night before which culminated in me taking to his wetsuit with a pair of scissors. But we are choosing not to dwell on that. It was PMS’s fault )

We drank wine, she critiqued my pedicure, shopped and wrote. Twas excellent. And she was the perfect date to an event we were attending.

On Thursday night I got my shit together and managed to arrive just a tiny bit late for the launch of the book, When My Husband Does the Dishes. This new memoir by twitter’s funniest lady and uber-blogger Kerri Sackville outlines life as a mother and wife, with a healthy dose of sex, friendship and PMS.

The launch was held at a bookstore in Paddington. It was packed. There were bloggers who had come in from all over the country. Sacko certainly has some pulling power. Champers flowed a plenty, as happens when you stick a whole lot of mummy bloggers and the eastern suburbs social set in one room. The vibe was loud, louder and inappropriate for much of it. Which is why I was having such a good time.
I purchased her book from a youthful assistant who then stared at me horrified when I swooped up a handful of display Easter eggs next to the till and shoved them into my handbag. As I had my wobbly boots on, I asked her to write out on a bit of paper what I wanted Ms Sackville to inscribe my newly purchased book with.

One day I hope my breasts will be as bountiful as yours,
Kerri Sackville

And when I got my book back, she had clearly ignored my request.

By this time I was starving as well. I wandered outside to chat with some guests when a man stopped me and asked what was going on in the packed bookshop. I said I would tell him if he gave me a bite of his kebab.

I guess he REALLY wanted to know what was going on.

So the weather forecast is calling for 7 days of rain and I do not care, because I think I will knock this book over in a day and then will spend the rest of the week implementing her advice such as When I need to Start a Therapy Fund for my Kids. This includes when they find you in the shower wearing a tampon and ask my you have a string “in your bum ” and when they see you sobbing with greater gusto then they ever could.


It was a big week which culminated in a funeral yesterday in the driving wind and rain down at Bowral. And it did get me thinking how lucky I was to have such amazing family and friends. I watched my dear friend sob over the grave of her mother and it struck me. Life was too short as it is. So I have decided not to kill myself anymore. Or eat food from strangers in the street.