Skip to main content

Can you see what I see?

There are times in life when you don't want own up to something- holding up your hand to admit that you are present when the teacher calls the register, truthfully saying you're not sick, you have a raging hangover, admitting you ate the last slice of cake, or that you were the source of the nasty smell in the lift are good examples.

At the tender age of 33, I looked in the mirror and said to myself "Petra, you're knocking on a bit, you better learn how to apply makeup". So I invested in some decent brushes and makeup. A few weeks later, I started losing my eyesight. My name is Petra and I am stalked by sods law!!!!!

I discovered that I can still have fun with makeup. I might even start a You tube channel with tutorials. It might take off with bat shit crazy drag queens. I am perhaps a little too liberal with glitter.

I noticed that my fancy brushes weren't in the makeup box. I had everyone searching high and low under the beds, behind furniture, the garden shed! until this post, I had only told one person as it is mortifying but as I have admitted before, I find things that embarrass me hilarious. About two weeks into the hunt for the makeup brushes,  I looked at the brushes again and realised the they were there - I just didn't recognise them because I cant really see colour any more!!

It has been awhile since I tickled your funny bone, because we have been dealing with a plague of aggressive cardashians and ever multiplying trebles. So posts will be infrequent for the time being.
Please stay safe everybody. Follow the advice of your national  health authorities.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Life Under the Knife

Hello, is it fun you're looking for? I suppose I'd better explain myself before things get weird. < Last year I was in hospital for over 3 months. My Dad visited me every day with coffee and cakes (thank you Dad)!!!. We were chatting one day when I said "Do you remember people telling Mam that she should write a book?" ( sadly she took the stairway to heaven 3 years ago). I said to my Dad "Can you imagine the book we could have written together?" You see the condition that we both suffer from is called Neurofibromatosis type 2 (NF2). We were both in and out of hospital pretty much all of our lives. I was thinking to myself that I don't have enough for a book, but maybe a blog. The craziest things happen to me and around me. What's one thing I do have? Stories so crazy, they'd make you question reality. I was pretty much completely blind, so I had nothing to do but think. I tried to remember the 20 years worth of stories and I have a me

Walk the Circle( Lines are so last year!)

I was never very good at lines, doing lines in school, drawing straight lines, cutting a straight line, colouring between the lines, walking in a straight line ( walking in a circle was more my thing) driving between the lines on the road do a line of shots(and still be standing by the last one) you get the picture Getting a line (canula) into my veins is along the same lines. My veins are as contrary as the rest of me! When they see a needle, they just collapse or go into hiding. I am notoriously hard to stick a needle into, it usually takes dozens of tries. I leave the doctors looking like a golf course. Unfortunately, I don't get a pint at the nineteenth hole unless it's blood. On the occasion that I was having several tests on the same day that required a line, a whole team of doctors and nurses came around, so that when one failed, another had a go. This was about 10 people. The whole team  inspected all four limbs. I felt like a sushi roll or something! Then as if b

War of the Restrooms

Nobody expects the Spanish inquisition.... or to get into a bar fight in a disabled bathroom! There are certain types of women you do no get on the wrong side of or indeed ask them to step aside. After 5 months in the slammer, (hospital), I was parched, my mouth was a dry as the Sahara. I couldn't walk anymore, so I basically crawled to a watering hole in Dublin's city centre. From my now waist high perspective, I managed to get the barman's attention and procured a glass of the life giving gold stuff. A friend put on some beer goggles and joined me in the land of pink elephants (those elephants were tap dancing if I remember correctly!). You know the movie, inside I'm dancing? Well inside I was at a bloody rave! As my friend and I got down to the important matters and traded war stories about doctors, she could hear an ear-splitting voice screeching from the other side of the pub. She assured me it was one of those voices you don't f*ck with! A drink or 3 can