Diary of Lisa Taylor, reluctantly 42 (and a half)

Or.. 'f.ck me I'm forty.. two.. and a half', though can look 38 on a - not so deluded - good day. Or 'How to reconcile a well experienced mind trapped in a still - but for how long? – youthful body.' Don't have the 30somethings angst/problems, neither have the resigned (?) ageing baby-boomers in safe family territory outlook yet. Here's how I cope, one day all sexy women will get old... but never invisible. © Lisa Taylor 2005/6/7/8/9. Jeez.. so much for the 42 and-a-half delusion

Friday, August 10, 2007

3 August - Blog fatigue

Having blog fatigue, which is common presumably. I’ve heard this writer on the radio talk about having a column for some Scottish newspaper and how after about six months the novelty of giving out your opinion on everything wears thin and … you have no opinion or you have a similar opinion to another opinion you already have. And you don’t get out of a short set of topics. Or if you do, and say you’re a lightweight commentator and you get asked about the war in Iraq, sure you give your opinion but why should anyone give a fuck and what does your opinion actually contribute to? To an ocean of more opinions, think about all the opinions of all the opinionated all over the world. The mind boggles.
If you were to read this blog from the beginning it would be easy to work out what I think about most of the time (like those vignettes in newspapers where thy portion out celebrities’ brains and if it’s Daniel Radcliffe, half of his thinking time is on Harry Potter and so on) as I only write about certain subjects: sex, Toph, health and fitness, a little cultural stuff sometimes books, sometimes a movie, sometimes a show, music, very little TV, fashion, my friends’ predicaments (which include sex, relationships, health, hobbies, kids, pets and so on), the kids they have and the kids I don’t have and TRAVEL. No cooking, no politics, no saving the world, not even recycling (been refusing plastic bags for years me, mate, why wake up to it now?). That’s about it, sum of my life. Is this ok? Doesn’t look like much. In fact, it’s depressing. Think I need to go do one of those ten days all silence, all inward meditation retreats and seriously come up with something better to write about.

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