Shaking things up. Rage, rage against the comfort zone!

I’ve embraced it. We are one, this midlife crisis and me. But we will not go gentle into that good night. Instead it seems, somehow, that I’ve lately acquired a taste for adrenalin, through fairly unexpected channels.

Mumabulous, while I respect and admire your comfort zone perimeter (with all those hot men living inside) and commitment to thinking inside the box (since I’m a big fan of things that come in boxes myself), I’m going to have to contradict your ‘hit the ground walking’ theory. Lately I’m kind of in the mood to run before I can walk. Like a baby. Maturity has never been such a strong point for me. This mood is quite lucky, since I somehow landed on the radio today, in an interview on the ABC Afternoons radio show in Adelaide with Sonya Feldhoff. WHAT? I know. Random. And I LOVE randomness.

Swinging upside down on the parallel bars at the local YMCA where little A does gym, like some kind of hairless orangutang, I flipped down this morning, red-faced, just to check my emails and found one requesting an interview 4 hours later. Sure? Why not? I had a head full of blood so I was sure to be thinking clearly. It was to talk about the stupid things we do when we’re tired, and I am clearly an expert on the subject matter. I was the perfect choice.

I’m glad I did it. Sonya was lovely and the buzz!!! I’d forgotten how much I love adrenalin (especially when preceded by abject terror and stage fright). No, actually, I hadn’t. Only two weeks ago I stood up on stage (hmmm… ok, that time slightly more immune to the pitches of my nerves, numbed by the dulcet thrums of alcohol’s music) to sing to a packed bar, with my knees knocking. Climbing down from the stage? The SAME BUZZ. Knees shaking with adrenalin, and grinning from ear to ear.

I’m finding the pinky purple hair I’m sporting this month (read, post-birthday) is more a mindset than a hairstyle. It’s impossible to get into a tracky-pant wearing mummish slump when I catch sight of myself in the mirror. I can pretend to myself I’m still bucking some trend, of what? I’m still not sure. Enough people go ‘woah, what happened to your hair?’ and ‘that’s a bit wild’ for me to get shaken out of any funky mood I might be slipping into. You can’t walk around all droopy-faced with pink hair. So I don’t, even if I want to. It’s the nicer version of someone saying ‘Hey, smile. Life’s not that bad.’ Except I said it to myself with an inconsequential little stripe of hair dye.

Does trapeze also throw in upside-down men like these? Sign me up.

Shaking things up is FUN. If this is a mid-life crisis, I think I’ll keep it for a while. I’m not sure what’s next, but I think I’ll have to give trapeze a go. I really, really like hanging upside down. And falling? I reckon that would be even better.

xx