Friday, 22 May 2015

Betty Rage the Calendar Girl?

Hey Ragers and Ragettes!!!  It’s a cool Friday here in St Helens so I am wearing my bootcut jeans, Suzanne inspired cowboy boots, a berry coloured ¾ sleeve V-neck top and my red lippy.  Fabulous! 

I am so happy that the weekend is upon us and that it’s a Bank Holiday Weekend!  I need the time off!!  My brains are mushed as a lot of negative things have happened this week.  I walked out of work on Wednesday night and Simon didn’t notice (thanks babe) and yesterday I wrote up my resignation and I was so close to handing it to Simon.  Work has become complicated and frustrating.  Then to top it off, yesterday, some arsehole decided to back into my cute little convertible denting the bonnet and putting a hole in my bumper.  Nice.  So this week can just suck a big dick for all I care.

So I want to focus on a positive. 

I have been training with my fabulous Personal Trainer now and I have been enjoying every minute.  And through her, I have made some new friends.  They are all girls and they also train with my Personal Trainer.  We are in a What’s App group cheering each other on, getting ideas for new recipes and exercises and such.  It’s been a God-send as chainging your lifestyle is hard.  There are still some fat girl habits in there and it’s all about controlling them. 

This weekend we are all having our first “cheat meal” in 4 weeks as we have been doing a month long clean eating challenge.  It has been hard.  The hardest bit was the coffee withdrawal but I have now been coffee free, processed food free for 4 weeks.  I am proud of myself.  And the girlies and I have agreed that this is the way to eat now and that we are going to continue to eat clean but every 2 weeks we will have a “cheat meal”.  My cheat meal?  Burgers with bacon and cheese, curly fries, bacon fried mozzarella sticks and carrot cake or cheese cake....I can’t decide which one.  I know I will probably want to chuck my guts up the next morning but it is important because I need to let me body feel that so that I won’t want to feel it again.

Anyway, we were having a group chat and one of the girls, Natasha* (name changed – also known as the pocket rocket as she is 4 foot 11 and strong as hell) said that she had a session with my Personal Trainer and they decided that all of us need to do a calendar to promote our healthy body shapes and our way of living.

Now I am not as fit and sculpted as the rest of the girls, but they want me to participate to prove that strong is sexy.  All body shapes are welcome.  Our group even have a name: The All Girl’s Lifting Team. 

So we were discussing what sort of poses we could do.  Gina (the group’s leader, she is ex military and has the most impressive abs I have ever seen) said that she wants to do pull ups, in full make up of course, while wearing a crop top and booty shorts.  We all agreed that was the best for Gina as she is one tough cookie!!!

Natasha said, I would like to do a boxing pose.  I chipped in and said, I have some fabulous retro Adidas boxing boots that are dying to come out plus some gloves!

Natasha replied, Betty, we can pose together with boxing gloves  or you can do lunges or squats because you have great legs!!  I see you wearing a white vest, booty shorts and your boxing boots.

I instantly felt....well, embarrassed but proud.  Me?  Have great legs?  My years of heel wearing has given me calf muscles to die for.  My Personal Trainer keeps telling me that my legs and bum are looking amazing.  And they are.  My bum is not a bum, but a proper booty!! 

I instantly felt excited and happy.  I have hair modelled now calendar model?  And to be in a group with these girls?  These girls are seriously physically fit and I look up to all of them. 

Gina wants to get matching workout tops for all of us to wear.  I usually don’t follow the crowd, but Gina, I will wear that top with pride because I am part of an elite group of girls that aren’t afraid to lift weights, scare off the sted heads in the gym that hog the weights and will happily out clean and press any man that challenges us.  Yes, I am proud to be a member of the All Girls Lifting Team!

So until next time Ragers and Ragettes, keep your head and standards high and your heels even higher!!

Lots of love

The Fabulous Betty Rage xxxxxx

Monday, 11 May 2015

On the Visitors and Parental Problems

Hey Ragers and Ragettes!!  It’s a lovely warm day here in St Helens so I am taking the opportunity to rock my new palazzo strapless jumpsuit with my white cardigan and black wedges.  Fabulous!!!

Well the visitors have been and gone.  It wasn’t too bad actually.  They are both now ladies of leisure (hubby is making all the money) and they both have children.   They are also both fat!  It was great being the skinny one in the group.  I know that was incredibly bitchy but I needed something from screaming after Amelia showed me her new Louis Vuitton handbag and her Chanel makeup.  Oh and don’t forget the first class ticket!!  Well at least my ass isn’t as flabby as yours, sunshine!

But it was ok.  We have each taken different paths and I am cool with it.  We spent the day in Liverpool and reminisced about the old days.  We laughed and discussed life and how the people from our old crew were doing. 

Charity is still as straight talking and funny as ever.   Yes, it looks like they have an easy life.  Well, as easy as raising children can be, and I must admit, I am a little envious but I am better off where I am now. 

We left it that we are going to attempt to meet up at Christmas when I go back home.  And that just suits me fine. 

But my current concern is with Simon’s parents.   I wouldn’t say that I am close to them.  I tolerate them, yes I think that is the best way that I can describe it currently but lately, things have been a bit....well....strained.

A few weeks ago, Simon received a call on the weekend from his mother asking him to come down to fix something, I don’t know if it was the computer or the TV.  He went over to assist and then the drama began...

I received a text from his dad:  Hi Betty.  Have you ever heard the song Cats in the Cats in the Cradle.  It’s about a father who doesn’t have time for his son.  I feel the opposite.

I was a bit shocked.  I didn’t know what to say so I sent a text back saying that I was familiar with the song and Cat Stevens.

Then his dad went on to say that Simon’s mum shouldn’t have called.  And that he wants to feel appreciated. 

He does have a valid point.  But the texts had spelling errors all over the shop...his dad was drunk again.

More texts followed.  The spelling got worse.  His dad was very drunk, I think.

Simon came home and looked frustrated.  I showed him the texts.  Simon sat down on the settee.  Was she drunk again, I asked quietly.  He just nodded.  I hugged him.  I could see he was hurt.  I can see why he doesn’t go over and see them.  I understand his frustration.

Ever since that day, his parents have been awkward with me and Simon.  As in they haven’t spoken to us or chatted with us.  And his dad, who takes care of the accounts knows how busy I am at work has been bombarding me with emails, where’s this?  Where’s that?  Give me this invoice.  He’s also putting awkward comments on my Facebook statuses.  It’s kind of making me feel uncomfortable.  I was tempted yesterday when his dad put an awkward comment on one of my statuses to say Go home Dad, you’re drunk but I don’t know how that would have been taken.

Why have I been pulled into this?  Should I be pulled into this?  What are the official relationship rules on this?

Simon and I have discussed the whole marriage thing.  It is something that we both want.  But Simon made it very clear he wants to fly to Vegas and get married without his parents present because of their track record for getting slaughtered. 

I am lucky.  Yes, my Mama is an absolute head-case with issues.  Yes, she drives me crackers.  Yes, my worst nightmare is to end up helpless and crazy like her.  But I love my Mama and I would take her craziness over Simon’s situation any day.  It’s made me grateful for what I do have.  Simon feels that my parents are the way that he wanted his parents to be and my parents adore Simon and they call him son.

But my parents are miles away and the closest things to parents that I have here are less than adequate. 

I find myself alone and isolated feeling.  They say that when you marry a man, you marry the family too.  Half of me thinks what have I got myself into? 

It’s a difficult one, Ragers and Ragettes and I am well and truly stuck.  Any comments or feedback about this or any issues are always welcome!

Until next time, Ragers and Ragettes, keep your head and standards high and your heels even higher

Lots of Love

The Fabulous Betty Rage xxxxx

Tuesday, 5 May 2015

On Letting Go.........Of your Hairdresser

Hey Ragers and Ragettes!!   It’s a grey but mild day here in St Helens.  I’m feeling ok today so I am wearing one of my favourite outfits of all time:  My 1970’s secretary dress.  It’s blue, white and red with a pussy bow blouse.  I have accessorized it with my red peeptoe stilettos and a black belt. My makeup and hair looks good today too!

Today is a very hard day for me historically.  10 years ago I lost a child but I am determined to not let it get to me.  10 years is too long of a time to let it hang over your head.  I know that my little one is some place better.  I also know that I am in a better place too.  So I am determined to make myself feel good today.  To look to the future and to close the door on that part of my life.

So I put on my best dress today and I walked into work with the new that our new customer service guy has decided to resign and not give us notice.  Fabulous indeed.  It’s a good thing because he was a grade A gobshite.  I mean, if being a gobshite was an Olympic sport, he would be a record holder and have at least 20 gold medals.

Over the weekend, I was thinking about the past, 10 years ago.  On Saturday I had a pamper day and I went to the hair dresser. 

Now Ragers and Ragettes.  You know my hairdresser is crazy.  He’s talented and a perfectionist.....when it comes to colour.  My hair now is 2 toned.  The fringe is a violet/pink colour which is amazing.  The rest is a rosy pink.  Gorgeous.  The haircut?  Dreadful.  I keep gioving him the same picture and he keeps not cutting it the way I want it.  I think that he is back in the 1980’s still (which is ok.  I have no problems with leg warmers) and whenever I walk out of his, my hair is spikey and punky.  Not the smooth classic Gennifer Goodwin pixie crop that I have wanted for 4 months. 

I got to my car, combed my hair down and I tried to salvage the situation.  I then went for a manicure and a pedicure with my fabulous beauty therapist.  I got in and she complimented me on my hair.

I sat down and she started to do my nails (I picked a bright orange with orange glitter) and she said, Betty, why do you look so sad?

I looked at her and said, my hair.  I don’t like my hair.

She looked at me with surprise. But Betty I thought that you liked your hair. 

I do, I love the colour but the’s dreadful.  I took my phone out and showed her the Gennifer Goodwin inspired pixie cut that I wanted.  Now, I said, does my hair look anything like this?

She looked and said immediately.  No.  It doesn’t. 

I said, hence my upset.

She said, Betty, if you are not happy with the haircut, maybe you need to change hairdressers.  There’s no point paying for a haircut that you don’t like.  You need to be happy with your hair.

The funny thing is, Ragers and Ragettes, when she said that, a light went on in my mind.  Why have I been letting someone cut my hair to a standard that I didn’t like?  Why haven’t I put my foot down?  I am too nice?  I feel guilty about leaving?

As I sat pondering this, my beauty therapist called over the head stylist at the salon and she looked at my hair.  I showed her the photo of what I wanted and she looked at it and then looked at my hair and said, I can clean this up for you.  He didn’t even come close to what you wanted!

To hear her say that made me feel relieved.  I felt like I was going crazy.  The head hair stylist went to look at the computer and before I knew it I Was booked in for a hair appointment with her.

A part of me felt guilty, like I was cheating on my hairdresser but the other part of me said, No Betty.  Put those shitty feelings away!!  You wanted a Gennifer Goodwin inspired pixie crop and you got a 1980’s spikey punk throwback!!!   Pull yourself together woman, for God’s sake!!!

It is like cheating though.  A woman and her hairdresser are a relationship that is sacred....even more sacred than the sanctity of marriage.  You tell your hairdresser everything.  They know how they like your coffee.  They listen to your holiday plans, your hopes, your dreams and you trust them with your hair.  And a woman’s hair is her crowning glory.  If you get a bad haircut it does effect you.

So, I am sorry Ali.  You’re the best colourist I have ever known but your cutting?  Shocking.   I am going to have to end this relationship as I need to do what is best for me and my hair.

So until next time Ragers and Ragettes, keep your head and standards high and your heels even higher.

Lots of Love

The Fabulous Betty Rage xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx