I've been meaning to get in touch for some time.
I have to confess though, i'm finally getting round to it for purely selfish reasons.
Recently i have felt the dark cloud descending. I'm finding myself awake in the middle of the night turning things over relentlessly in my mind. I feel sluggish, negative and fearful of the future.
And then i realised what i needed to do was to talk to someone, and in a typical fashion i chose to talk to you. Because you won't talk back. We have history but we don't have issues. The Agenda is mine and mine only - you have no items to add.
Looking at you now makes me just want to relive our whole relationship, consume it whole , relish it for the ideals that it offers.
I'm going a bit over the top now i know, but you will never be scared by the force of my feelings.
I can rely on you.
You will always be there when i need you.
It's all about me.
P.S. Thank you to my three followers!
It means a lot, thanks for your comments.X
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blogging. Show all posts
Friday, February 11, 2011
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Diaries
I' ve been going through some more boxes and i found one of my old diaries. This one starts in 1990 and ends in 1995 (not written every day of course). In fact i'm going to give myself the benefit of the doubt and say that it looks like i only wrote in it when i was feeling down. I flicked through a few entries, but mostly i couldn't bear to read it.
In fact, to be fair, it starts off as a travel diary: i'm writing about my first trip to the US. It was my second year of university and my sister and i went to visit our friend who was studying in Memphis. We smoked enormous ammounts of southern grown pot (they grow it between the crops we were told). We hogged the joint without realising because we were used to the slow burning of resin mixed with tobacco, and this fresh green stuff just zipped down to the roach before you could say "pass the doobie"(this joke is purely for our lass and the American lady in question).
We went to Graceland and New Orleans: "Well I love the Beatles, but Elvis is King...". We got snowed in- real, deep, fluffy snow that surrounded the tall pines of Tennessee and made the roads treacherous.
I fell in love with the US: with the apples the size of your head and three different types of the same brand of beer; with Jack Daniels and Preservation Hall, with pistachio ice-cream and thrift stores; with fried chicken at the Loveless Motel (but not grits); with Southern hospitality and with swamps and the Mississippi (M-I-SS-I-doubleS-I-doubleP-I).
31st December 1990 So: you go into the city centre; you change your dollars back into pounds and the girl asks you where you've been. You're not even aware of the date and you hand in your films and your pockets are empty again. It has already become a memory, a categorised section of events in your life that must be put away to continue with the next. You go to The Faversham and you find the old requirements and preparations second nature. You get there and see people and talk but you don't explain, and you feel like you've lost it- it hasn't touched you. You're desperately trying to remember things to make you feel something, but your body is celebrating New Year, and it finds no difficulty in spending the night with D. when you thought you had yourself under control.
The question i would like to ask this girl is: "Why do you 'not explain'?"
In fact, to be fair, it starts off as a travel diary: i'm writing about my first trip to the US. It was my second year of university and my sister and i went to visit our friend who was studying in Memphis. We smoked enormous ammounts of southern grown pot (they grow it between the crops we were told). We hogged the joint without realising because we were used to the slow burning of resin mixed with tobacco, and this fresh green stuff just zipped down to the roach before you could say "pass the doobie"(this joke is purely for our lass and the American lady in question).
We went to Graceland and New Orleans: "Well I love the Beatles, but Elvis is King...". We got snowed in- real, deep, fluffy snow that surrounded the tall pines of Tennessee and made the roads treacherous.
I fell in love with the US: with the apples the size of your head and three different types of the same brand of beer; with Jack Daniels and Preservation Hall, with pistachio ice-cream and thrift stores; with fried chicken at the Loveless Motel (but not grits); with Southern hospitality and with swamps and the Mississippi (M-I-SS-I-doubleS-I-doubleP-I).
31st December 1990 So: you go into the city centre; you change your dollars back into pounds and the girl asks you where you've been. You're not even aware of the date and you hand in your films and your pockets are empty again. It has already become a memory, a categorised section of events in your life that must be put away to continue with the next. You go to The Faversham and you find the old requirements and preparations second nature. You get there and see people and talk but you don't explain, and you feel like you've lost it- it hasn't touched you. You're desperately trying to remember things to make you feel something, but your body is celebrating New Year, and it finds no difficulty in spending the night with D. when you thought you had yourself under control.
The question i would like to ask this girl is: "Why do you 'not explain'?"
Thursday, December 27, 2007
All over for another year
It's that time of year that you see those members of your family whom you only see at Christmas, weddings or funerals.
I haven't seen Auntie J since last Christmas. She is a robust Scottish woman who is not actually a relative, but a friend of my mother's from her college days. She is tough: she survived a botched operation which means she will have dialysis for the rest of her life. As a secondary school teacher in inner city schools, now retired, she regales us with tales of boys masturbating in her lessons, of teachers and their affairs, of pupils attempting to burn the school down and of the manner in which she dealt with these occurrences; she told him if she caught him doing that again, she would cut it off and he wouldn't be able to play with it any more.
Although i tell her that i don't want to be a school teacher, she advises me that if i kiss ass (which she regrets she never could) i will get myself a nice job. I tell her i want to work in Higher Education and she tells me there's not enough of it to go round, and asks me what i do with myself of an evening.
I tell her that i write on my blog and she pauses and looks at me in which time i wonder if she knows what blogging is. Auntie J says that blogging is for lonely people and i do not disagree with her. She tells me i should teach myself music, and that i will never be alone if i can play. I insist that i have no ability for it, and she tells me that i am a talented and intelligent girl. She tells me that i look beautiful, like the madonna or the Mona Lisa. She repeats her many compliments and notes that people may say she has a big mouth, but she said nothing when i looked so terrible last year, and now i look the best she has ever seen me looking, and she just wanted to say it.
I haven't seen Auntie J since last Christmas. She is a robust Scottish woman who is not actually a relative, but a friend of my mother's from her college days. She is tough: she survived a botched operation which means she will have dialysis for the rest of her life. As a secondary school teacher in inner city schools, now retired, she regales us with tales of boys masturbating in her lessons, of teachers and their affairs, of pupils attempting to burn the school down and of the manner in which she dealt with these occurrences; she told him if she caught him doing that again, she would cut it off and he wouldn't be able to play with it any more.
Although i tell her that i don't want to be a school teacher, she advises me that if i kiss ass (which she regrets she never could) i will get myself a nice job. I tell her i want to work in Higher Education and she tells me there's not enough of it to go round, and asks me what i do with myself of an evening.
I tell her that i write on my blog and she pauses and looks at me in which time i wonder if she knows what blogging is. Auntie J says that blogging is for lonely people and i do not disagree with her. She tells me i should teach myself music, and that i will never be alone if i can play. I insist that i have no ability for it, and she tells me that i am a talented and intelligent girl. She tells me that i look beautiful, like the madonna or the Mona Lisa. She repeats her many compliments and notes that people may say she has a big mouth, but she said nothing when i looked so terrible last year, and now i look the best she has ever seen me looking, and she just wanted to say it.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Sex in the Noughties
Apparently (according to Channel 4), no one is ever going to 'do it' like Girl with a One Track Mind.
Wheel in Zoe Williams (she writes for The Guardian so she must be right) to say that a great number of blogs are just dross.
Then to cap the programme off- which had hitherto disguised itself as a celebration of blogging, the freedom of writing anonymously and a sexual revolution for women in the noughties- 'The Publisher'. 'The Publisher' comes on to tell the viewers that 'The Publishing Industry' has become very cynical about blogging. That bloggers who are hoping for a book deal are going to be sadly disappointed.
No Shit! Writing without profit? How dare they?
The proliferation- more than quadrupling the number of blogs written over the last three years- is presented as an inevitable decline in quality, originality or significance.
I beg to fucking differ.
I'd like to say that blogging is a democratisation of writing, and that every individuals story deserves a space, and that I look forward to the time when more than a privileged few (programme makers, publishers, intelligent press) get to describe the world and their view of it.
I don't want to hear what they have to say. They speak the language of the institution safeguarding itself.
I want to hear your voice.
Wheel in Zoe Williams (she writes for The Guardian so she must be right) to say that a great number of blogs are just dross.
Then to cap the programme off- which had hitherto disguised itself as a celebration of blogging, the freedom of writing anonymously and a sexual revolution for women in the noughties- 'The Publisher'. 'The Publisher' comes on to tell the viewers that 'The Publishing Industry' has become very cynical about blogging. That bloggers who are hoping for a book deal are going to be sadly disappointed.
No Shit! Writing without profit? How dare they?
The proliferation- more than quadrupling the number of blogs written over the last three years- is presented as an inevitable decline in quality, originality or significance.
I beg to fucking differ.
I'd like to say that blogging is a democratisation of writing, and that every individuals story deserves a space, and that I look forward to the time when more than a privileged few (programme makers, publishers, intelligent press) get to describe the world and their view of it.
I don't want to hear what they have to say. They speak the language of the institution safeguarding itself.
I want to hear your voice.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
Words v Pictures
I don't know how to say this, but i think we might need to have a break. I mean, i know i was all enthusiastic at our one year anniversary and all, but i'm having doubts about our long term prospects.
I mean we used to be doing it twice a week- and now i'm forcing myself to do once a week. On top of that, i've been spending a lot of time with u-tube recently. When we started out, i purposely restricted myself to words only. I wanted that challenge; to build up a picture without providing one for you. But after all, i 'm a visual person. Maybe i need pictures to keep me turned on.
I also feel our relationship is a little one-sided. What with you all blocking your IP addresses and everything. How can i read you if you won't let me? and if you are reading me you're just not prepared to talk about it. I've been trawling through Site-meter and not getting any joy. I can't see you and i'm losing the buzz that made me want to look.
It's all so cloak and dagger with blogger isn't it? that was the thing that attracted me in the beginning, but now it's the thing that drives me crazy.
I mean with u-tube, you just show each other what you've got, you can say if you dig it or not, and than you can go and find out who does and who doesn't. It's a bit more of a level playing field and the numbers are right there in front of you to keep you going.
After all people are more open to images than words aren't they, access to them is not limited by education, language or by the quantity you have consumed?
Well, that's how i feel, let me know what you think. We can talk later.
I mean we used to be doing it twice a week- and now i'm forcing myself to do once a week. On top of that, i've been spending a lot of time with u-tube recently. When we started out, i purposely restricted myself to words only. I wanted that challenge; to build up a picture without providing one for you. But after all, i 'm a visual person. Maybe i need pictures to keep me turned on.
I also feel our relationship is a little one-sided. What with you all blocking your IP addresses and everything. How can i read you if you won't let me? and if you are reading me you're just not prepared to talk about it. I've been trawling through Site-meter and not getting any joy. I can't see you and i'm losing the buzz that made me want to look.
It's all so cloak and dagger with blogger isn't it? that was the thing that attracted me in the beginning, but now it's the thing that drives me crazy.
I mean with u-tube, you just show each other what you've got, you can say if you dig it or not, and than you can go and find out who does and who doesn't. It's a bit more of a level playing field and the numbers are right there in front of you to keep you going.
After all people are more open to images than words aren't they, access to them is not limited by education, language or by the quantity you have consumed?
Well, that's how i feel, let me know what you think. We can talk later.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Another chance
This Sunday (15th) was our one year anniversary.
Who knew our relationship would make it to this milestone? And the best thing about reaching this point? We can start reminiscing!
So, here we go:
One year ago i wrote my first post. I was stuck in a job which just about paid the bills but ultimately made me miserable. I had no time and no energy to do anything but work and go out (to try and forget about work).
One year on, i'm completely broke, almost maxed out on borrowing power- but happy. Not only have i found an outlet for my thoughts here, but i have brought one of my other projects to stage one of it's life.
At this point, i still have no definite idea about how i am going to earn from now on. But i needed this space.
I'm even talking to people about collaborations! Me! Me who has always worked away on her own and thought that working with other people meant losing that all important control. I'm going to do a project with a friend who is a dancer, choreographer and writer. I'm also talking to a friend who is a DJ about making a film. Watch this space for further details.
It's bizarre. Even though i'm in the least stable position I've been in a long time i feel strangely assured that everything is going to be fine.
I also realised something massive about my emotional/relationship life. I have realised that everything i have done in this area in the last thirteen years has been a form of self-punishment. This seems incredible (how could i have been doing this for so long?)
Thirteen years ago i terminated a pregnancy to a totally unsuitable partner. I absolutely knew i could not have a child with that person. Not a shadow of a doubt, that would have been a disastrous move at that point in my life - just finished university, substituting my first part time teaching job by working in retail. He treated my pregnancy like an occupational hazard. There was no need for debate.
I ditched him, he was angry, it was ugly, but worst of all, i felt as though i had killed someone. Depending which way you look at it, maybe i had. My friends that didn't go to university were getting married and having children. I consequently embarked on a single-minded quest to pursue relationships with men who either could not or would not be with me in any real way.
This revelation, the common factor in my messy history has only come to me in the last month or so.
I want to say, not for anybody else's sake but my my own, that i forgive myself. I forgive myself for the decision i made in those circumstances. That impossible decision that lurks somewhere in women's minds if not directly then through our friends, our mothers, our sisters lives.
I'm not a bad person. The reason i have not manged a relationship in the last thirteen years is because i have forgotten how to be nice to myself. i do remember what it feels like to be loved and i acknowledge that it scares me. I love passionately but most of all i deserve and look forward to being loved in return.
Who knew our relationship would make it to this milestone? And the best thing about reaching this point? We can start reminiscing!
So, here we go:
One year ago i wrote my first post. I was stuck in a job which just about paid the bills but ultimately made me miserable. I had no time and no energy to do anything but work and go out (to try and forget about work).
One year on, i'm completely broke, almost maxed out on borrowing power- but happy. Not only have i found an outlet for my thoughts here, but i have brought one of my other projects to stage one of it's life.
At this point, i still have no definite idea about how i am going to earn from now on. But i needed this space.
I'm even talking to people about collaborations! Me! Me who has always worked away on her own and thought that working with other people meant losing that all important control. I'm going to do a project with a friend who is a dancer, choreographer and writer. I'm also talking to a friend who is a DJ about making a film. Watch this space for further details.
It's bizarre. Even though i'm in the least stable position I've been in a long time i feel strangely assured that everything is going to be fine.
I also realised something massive about my emotional/relationship life. I have realised that everything i have done in this area in the last thirteen years has been a form of self-punishment. This seems incredible (how could i have been doing this for so long?)
Thirteen years ago i terminated a pregnancy to a totally unsuitable partner. I absolutely knew i could not have a child with that person. Not a shadow of a doubt, that would have been a disastrous move at that point in my life - just finished university, substituting my first part time teaching job by working in retail. He treated my pregnancy like an occupational hazard. There was no need for debate.
I ditched him, he was angry, it was ugly, but worst of all, i felt as though i had killed someone. Depending which way you look at it, maybe i had. My friends that didn't go to university were getting married and having children. I consequently embarked on a single-minded quest to pursue relationships with men who either could not or would not be with me in any real way.
This revelation, the common factor in my messy history has only come to me in the last month or so.
I want to say, not for anybody else's sake but my my own, that i forgive myself. I forgive myself for the decision i made in those circumstances. That impossible decision that lurks somewhere in women's minds if not directly then through our friends, our mothers, our sisters lives.
I'm not a bad person. The reason i have not manged a relationship in the last thirteen years is because i have forgotten how to be nice to myself. i do remember what it feels like to be loved and i acknowledge that it scares me. I love passionately but most of all i deserve and look forward to being loved in return.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
Untold Stories! New- with sound!
Ewww! I've finally got round to putting music with my posts!
The joys of unlimited free time!
This has made my week. I've gone back through all my posts and put in soundtracks for some of them.
Not all the songs that i wanted were available. Nonetheless, i am a happy woman!
If you've got time to scroll back you can hear all kinds of Nina Tunes.
There's one addition in particular that has an important function.
If i haven't mentioned my love-life lately that's because there has been a hiatus. I need to say googdbye to someone and that track is my goodbye. I usually have to force myself to cut off from people when a relationship ends, "Now you really need to stop thinking about x, y, z. It's not going to do any good to think about it any longer." etc.
But this has been different- which is odd considering i just spent the last eighteen months (?) thinking about that situation far too much.
I've just stopped. I have no plan, no strategy in place, it's just gone. It's not even vaguely there in the back of my mind. It pops up now and again, but i don't have the desire to go into it any further.
So, this is it. I did not get a chance to say a lot of the things that i wanted to: so this is my goodbye.
To my future husband:
i know what you're thinking.....
You're thinking, " Is she going to write about me like that? Is our relationship going to be the subject of the love of my life's on-line ramblings?"
Although you will deny it, you are the coolest guy in the universe. Our life/relationship will not be documented here, because it will be swirling and whirling around us; wrapping us up and keeping us warm and happy. It will be too real to be pinned down, consigned to words and then history. It will be now, not then. And when we get together; i will just have to find something else to write about.
The joys of unlimited free time!
This has made my week. I've gone back through all my posts and put in soundtracks for some of them.
Not all the songs that i wanted were available. Nonetheless, i am a happy woman!
If you've got time to scroll back you can hear all kinds of Nina Tunes.
There's one addition in particular that has an important function.
If i haven't mentioned my love-life lately that's because there has been a hiatus. I need to say googdbye to someone and that track is my goodbye. I usually have to force myself to cut off from people when a relationship ends, "Now you really need to stop thinking about x, y, z. It's not going to do any good to think about it any longer." etc.
But this has been different- which is odd considering i just spent the last eighteen months (?) thinking about that situation far too much.
I've just stopped. I have no plan, no strategy in place, it's just gone. It's not even vaguely there in the back of my mind. It pops up now and again, but i don't have the desire to go into it any further.
So, this is it. I did not get a chance to say a lot of the things that i wanted to: so this is my goodbye.
To my future husband:
i know what you're thinking.....
You're thinking, " Is she going to write about me like that? Is our relationship going to be the subject of the love of my life's on-line ramblings?"
Although you will deny it, you are the coolest guy in the universe. Our life/relationship will not be documented here, because it will be swirling and whirling around us; wrapping us up and keeping us warm and happy. It will be too real to be pinned down, consigned to words and then history. It will be now, not then. And when we get together; i will just have to find something else to write about.
Monday, May 28, 2007
This is one of the most difficult things i've had to write about to date.
Those of you who read carefully will be aware of my thoughts on being copied. So, imagine my surprise when an anonymous commenter on my Limewire dating post told me that someone has been copying my posts and passing them off as their own.
It was more than weird, reading my own words through someone else's site. I mean, i know our online selves are not our true selves. These fragments can never tell the whole story, and they're not meant to. Not for me anyway. As my title suggests - for me it's as much about what you don't say. I'm really interested in the stuff between the lines - the stuff you decide really doesn't need to be broadcast on the Internet (and conversely how the hell we choose the stuff that does). But I realised that as soon as i publish something, it's subject to change by it's readers. But i don't want to control that, i want it to be out there and become a developing, changing document.
However, this has been a reality check for me, i'm looking into intellectual copyright. I'm going to make sure that despite my desire to make links with people and put stuff out there, if anyone is going to get credit for my ideas and indeed if anyone is going to make money from my writing or from SOUNDTRACK or any associated projects, it will be me.
So Bloggers beware: it happens. And if you want see it with your own eyes -look for the post dated 19th May 2007 (at the bottom of the front page).
It was more than weird, reading my own words through someone else's site. I mean, i know our online selves are not our true selves. These fragments can never tell the whole story, and they're not meant to. Not for me anyway. As my title suggests - for me it's as much about what you don't say. I'm really interested in the stuff between the lines - the stuff you decide really doesn't need to be broadcast on the Internet (and conversely how the hell we choose the stuff that does). But I realised that as soon as i publish something, it's subject to change by it's readers. But i don't want to control that, i want it to be out there and become a developing, changing document.
However, this has been a reality check for me, i'm looking into intellectual copyright. I'm going to make sure that despite my desire to make links with people and put stuff out there, if anyone is going to get credit for my ideas and indeed if anyone is going to make money from my writing or from SOUNDTRACK or any associated projects, it will be me.
So Bloggers beware: it happens. And if you want see it with your own eyes -look for the post dated 19th May 2007 (at the bottom of the front page).
Thursday, March 08, 2007
OMG!
This is the first time ever that i have had to force myself to write a post.
What's going on?
I don't know what to write about. Nothing seems exciting enough to put down. This is really weird, i don't like it.
I've really been enjoying your comments recently, maybe you could help me out. I could tell you a tale about my love-life; or i could tell you what i got up to in London a couple of weeks ago; my experience of the recent lunar eclipse or erm, struggling here.....it's all me, me, me isn't it?
I've labelled all my posts! This is not because i would like to tell you exactly what each post is about- then you might not even feel the need to read it!! No, i just like labels and boxes, they make me feel organazised. In fact i love it when you get a comment and you don't really understand what it means because the person who wrote it was thinking about something entirely different (or related in their mind). It's great when that happens. For the love of ambiguity, i invented the label 'miscellaneous'. These are the posts which resist being pinned down. These can be about anything you want them to be about. Indeed they will be better for it.
So, i didn't plan this post. It's the nearest to free-association that i'm going to get. "Can you tell what it is yet?"
What's going on?
I don't know what to write about. Nothing seems exciting enough to put down. This is really weird, i don't like it.
I've really been enjoying your comments recently, maybe you could help me out. I could tell you a tale about my love-life; or i could tell you what i got up to in London a couple of weeks ago; my experience of the recent lunar eclipse or erm, struggling here.....it's all me, me, me isn't it?
I've labelled all my posts! This is not because i would like to tell you exactly what each post is about- then you might not even feel the need to read it!! No, i just like labels and boxes, they make me feel organazised. In fact i love it when you get a comment and you don't really understand what it means because the person who wrote it was thinking about something entirely different (or related in their mind). It's great when that happens. For the love of ambiguity, i invented the label 'miscellaneous'. These are the posts which resist being pinned down. These can be about anything you want them to be about. Indeed they will be better for it.
So, i didn't plan this post. It's the nearest to free-association that i'm going to get. "Can you tell what it is yet?"
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Who's that lady?
I have finally found an image for my profile!
Girls: some of you may recognise this woman.
Guys: you may have to ask your girlfriend or girl friend.
She's the woman who hides those things which should not be seen to come out.
Inevitably though, all things which are held inside for a time, must come out. Even those things which are most often thought of as unpleasant, even nasty; that are not that socially acceptable or desired to be seen in public, should have a place to go.
She's the woman who gives those things a place to hide.
Crinoline skirts- perfect for concealing all manner of secrets!
God, i love my own jokes.
Girls: some of you may recognise this woman.
Guys: you may have to ask your girlfriend or girl friend.
She's the woman who hides those things which should not be seen to come out.
Inevitably though, all things which are held inside for a time, must come out. Even those things which are most often thought of as unpleasant, even nasty; that are not that socially acceptable or desired to be seen in public, should have a place to go.
She's the woman who gives those things a place to hide.
Crinoline skirts- perfect for concealing all manner of secrets!
God, i love my own jokes.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Blogstipation
Okay, who wants to hear about what i did over the holiday weekend?
Phone lines are open; you can vote for the story of your choice by leaving me a message in the comments!
Do you want to hear how
Phone lines are open; you can vote for the story of your choice by leaving me a message in the comments!
Do you want to hear how
- I got chatted up by some sixteen year old chavs on the bus?
- I got soaked at carnival?
- I got my new storytelling project underway?
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Blogging
I wasn't going to write about blogging because i thought it would be like one of those pictures that i really liked when i was a kid- you know the ones: it's a picture of a room, and on the wall there's a picture of a room with a picture of a room on the wall, and in that room ....and on and on forever.
Well i changed my mind.
Blogging is the thing that's been missing from my life since i was thirteen! It's a place to put all that miscellaneous STUFF that there isn't really anywhere to put. I've always kept diaries but 'What's the point in that??!!' They're under your bed in a box and no one ever reads them (except the person that you absolutely don't want to read them) and then it causes loads of trouble and it's all really dramatic.
This way you get to say whatever you want-and you're not hiding it, in fact, the opposite- you are inviting people to read it, "Come on, have a look inside my soul!"
All of this would be true if i weren't doing this anonymously. It would be true if i were inviting my colleagues and friends and family to read this, but i'm not. I'm not writing for people i know, i'm writing for people i don't know.
What's that all about then?
Well i changed my mind.
Blogging is the thing that's been missing from my life since i was thirteen! It's a place to put all that miscellaneous STUFF that there isn't really anywhere to put. I've always kept diaries but 'What's the point in that??!!' They're under your bed in a box and no one ever reads them (except the person that you absolutely don't want to read them) and then it causes loads of trouble and it's all really dramatic.
This way you get to say whatever you want-and you're not hiding it, in fact, the opposite- you are inviting people to read it, "Come on, have a look inside my soul!"
All of this would be true if i weren't doing this anonymously. It would be true if i were inviting my colleagues and friends and family to read this, but i'm not. I'm not writing for people i know, i'm writing for people i don't know.
What's that all about then?
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
Petite Anglaise
...is a blogger who got sacked when her employer discovered her site, and is now getting a book deal.
I was reading her entry of 14.07.06 which describes her 'feeling good about being alone' after splitting with her partner. The comments that follow are congratulatory, especially that she has reached this point so quickly.
Why does everyone else's life read like fiction to me?
There's lots of romantic symbolism about her new apartment and the freedom to choose her own paint colours. I'm about to embark on my third house move alone and i can tell you that aesthetic decisions like that are not a measure of your inner freedom. I mean, i'm the first one to admit that your environment affects your psyche (and therefore concievably your external life) but fucking hell. I think it would be more realistic to say that enjoying your new found 'freedom' as a single parent is just that- it's new found, it's novelty/romantic value is a phase of breaking up with someone- it's not something you earned yourself, it's a side effect!
It's obviously helping her get through it (and i shouldn't be such a bitch). The word 'bitter' comes to mind. I'm not bitter, i have admitted for at least the past two years that i don't want to be single any more. This is a separate issue from enjoying your singularity as i see it. I have lots of really good friends, i love my social life and after many years of repair work on this, i have a close family also.
She says that there isn't enough of her to go round: because she's a single parent!!??
This is why i am the antithesis of Bridget Jones: there's too fucking much of me for any one person. Now i sound like one of those wierd polygamists. What i mean is, that when i meet someone i sincerely hope to retain all the qualities of singularity listed above. I want to share everything with somebody, my soul mate, but i have no intention of giving up all the other things that ten years of being single has provided me with- and want to meet my equal in that respect.
Have i got ridiculously high expectations?
Perhaps that's why I'm still on my own.
I was reading her entry of 14.07.06 which describes her 'feeling good about being alone' after splitting with her partner. The comments that follow are congratulatory, especially that she has reached this point so quickly.
Why does everyone else's life read like fiction to me?
There's lots of romantic symbolism about her new apartment and the freedom to choose her own paint colours. I'm about to embark on my third house move alone and i can tell you that aesthetic decisions like that are not a measure of your inner freedom. I mean, i'm the first one to admit that your environment affects your psyche (and therefore concievably your external life) but fucking hell. I think it would be more realistic to say that enjoying your new found 'freedom' as a single parent is just that- it's new found, it's novelty/romantic value is a phase of breaking up with someone- it's not something you earned yourself, it's a side effect!
It's obviously helping her get through it (and i shouldn't be such a bitch). The word 'bitter' comes to mind. I'm not bitter, i have admitted for at least the past two years that i don't want to be single any more. This is a separate issue from enjoying your singularity as i see it. I have lots of really good friends, i love my social life and after many years of repair work on this, i have a close family also.
She says that there isn't enough of her to go round: because she's a single parent!!??
This is why i am the antithesis of Bridget Jones: there's too fucking much of me for any one person. Now i sound like one of those wierd polygamists. What i mean is, that when i meet someone i sincerely hope to retain all the qualities of singularity listed above. I want to share everything with somebody, my soul mate, but i have no intention of giving up all the other things that ten years of being single has provided me with- and want to meet my equal in that respect.
Have i got ridiculously high expectations?
Perhaps that's why I'm still on my own.
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