I finally came clean to a very longstanding and dear friend and admitted that I was playing in the blogosphere. Some of her comments horrified me.
'The one about MS is very very special. As is the one about getting stuck on the toilet – among other things. It sounds like YOU – and that’s how all the ones I’ve liked best sound. There are others that are well written and have plenty of content but where you sound like A Very Nice Lady with a Dear Supportive and Kind Partner. A very nice lady who would wear muted colours and probably have her hair done regularly… As you might guess, they don’t speak to me in the slightest... It’s your own distinctive, black-humoured (and dribbling) voice that I love. Long may it reign. '
This is not the way I saw my posts but ....Truth is hugely important to me so I thought it was time to amend any misapprehensions that are lurking about. Like everyone else I am a complex mix.
Although I am a caring person I am not 'a nice lady'. Indeed not being a member of the peerage I object to the term lady. I am regularly bad tempered. Far too often ballistic with rage. What makes me angry? Injustice, inequity, dishonesty, prejudice, cruelty (particularly to animals but not excluding humans), pretentiousness. Jazz swinging from my butt purring loudly. My body's refusal to do what I tell it. Losing words and forgetfulness. The isms - think racism, sexism etc. My ongoing feelings of inadequacy. And the list goes on, but that is a start. Some of the things that make me angry have positive outcomes. I contribute to selected charities so that I can feel that I am helping to work on things that make me angry. When I can I ignore my body. And the gaps in my mind. Forgetting things means I can re-read and rediscover things of joy. And sometimes being angry is a waste of energy I just don't have. Which, regretfully, doesn't stop me.
Most of the things that make me angry/sad are concepts rather than things I guess. On the other hand I am made happy by small things (small things/small mind?). The people I love. Dawn. Autumnal colours. The cats in all their moods. Winning against the challenges my body sets me. Watching the birds. Fresh produce from the garden. Flowers ditto. Wine. Chocolate. Discovering/rediscovering authors who can educate, amuse or transport me. Art in its multiplicity of guises ditto. And this list goes on too.
I revel in my black sense of humour and view it as a life saver.
I love my partner dearly - we have now been together for over thirty years but in some ways he is best described as a selfink. And I am sure he has equally opprobrious ways of describing me but we won't go there. This is my blog.
Whilst in the workforce Maggie Shepherd clothes in all their glorious and LOUD colour clashings were my outfits of choice. I have a deep and abiding passion for earrings and some of my favourites are shaped like cat's bums.
These days I dress for comfort in trousers and t shirts. Worn to death and beyond. Shoes rarely, but if they are necessary, flat.
I loathe and detest hairdressers and go (several weeks after I should) only to get my hair cut. I have a game which I call the hairdresser game where I make up family scenarios if I feel their questions are too probing. And never remember what scenario I have used - but that is another issue. My hair is curly or very curly depending on the weather. I had chemotherapy towards the end of last year and only lost my grey hairs - something which continues to amuse me. I don't own a blow dryer - my style is 'wash and wear'. Possibly wild and woolly is the right description. I look like my mama (though my nose is less parrot like) so I don't do photos. The critic who was the impetus for this post tells me that I look down my more abbreviated nose like a disapproving camel when inspired.
I read 'good books' and agreeable trash with equal pleasure, often concurrently. At the moment I am reading the Faber Book of Diaries and Dawn of the Dreadfuls (Pride and Prejudice and Zombies). Both have charm.
My middle and eldest brothers have the family pomposity gene.
I don't think I dribble. Yet.
A black sense or any sense of humour is good for the soul and your sanity :-).ReplyDelete
I would endure chemo if I thought the grey ones would jump ship. that is so amazing.ReplyDelete
'a nice lady' is a concept in the eye of the beholder, and everything you say about yourself goes into the Good column of my accounts book.
Rage is healthy and a sign of intelligence.
and everything else you said. keep it up. XXX
Thanks Windsmoke, Marshall.ReplyDelete
The friend who said I was coming across as nice meant naice. It wasn't complimentary. Chemo wasn't a whole heap of fun but losing the grey hair was a bonus. Peeing bright blue was interesting too.
First rule of BlogClub: Never talk about BlogClub!ReplyDelete
Second rule of BlogClub: Never talk about BlogClub!
Stupid woman (not you, gawd takes offence easily, I heard that swearing) if you want to be nice and pretend you're Betty Windsor and wear a crown while blogging then it's your blog and your crown. On hot nights I've been known to blog in the nude, TMI, sorry for the image.
I rather like 'lady'. When I was at school and being sneered at or picked on I would pretend I was the Duchess of Avon (from Georgette Heyer book) whenever I started to feel my self doing that self sorry shoulder slumped cringe, like a dog whose owner is angry with it.ReplyDelete
I very much agreed with the toilet blog. There was one bar in Sydney, in the square outside Central station, that had marvelous high toilets. A proper throne of a toilet :)
And talking about blogging in a crown, does anybody else have the urge when they are in Vinnies or whatever, to buy one of the wedding dresses to swan around the house in? Maybe do some dusting?
I went back and looked at some of your previous posts to find this "lady." I'm puzzled. You've certainly never come across that way to me!ReplyDelete
A black sense of humor is definitely a must. Absolutely. Yes.
I've been dubbed "nice" all my life. I guess it must be what I am.ReplyDelete
You sound marvellous. That's all I have to add.ReplyDelete
Copperwitch: W00T! Nudie blogging! Now you're talking.
Thank you, thank you, thank you. Though if I am not mistaken the Duchess of Avon was not a lady, and behaved in very unsuitable ways (for her time). A woman after my own heart.ReplyDelete
I guess because South American people are mostly short their toilets go down in my memory as among the worst. It felt like the seat was level with my ankles.
I am not certain whether blogging in the nude or prancing around cleaning house in a wedding dress makes me smile more. Both terrific images.
And no, I don't have a problem with nice. Just nice said in that tone of voice.
I suppose it comes with the territory when blogging - you can't please everyone all the time, and there will always be as many interpretations of the voice and message and person behind them as there are readers, (and cat's bums). You're okay by me, EC, and I haven't got one "nice lady" in my acquaintance! Horrified is right.ReplyDelete
Thanks Two Tigers. On some levels (the rational ones) I know I can't please everyone. Unfortunately the other levels claim pride of place too often. All of the comments on this post have been truly reassuring and appreciated mightily.ReplyDelete
I'm not very nice either sometimes. I never met a saint, except in the blogosphere. There, many reside, apparently.ReplyDelete
You have MS? I'm new to your blog. Did you read about the research maybe in England or Germany, somewhere, a doctor, his wife with MS, him desperate to find her help, cat scanned her brains' veins, the drainage system. He found interesting problems, narrowing, complex branching, and concluded MS might be a drainage issue, and began installing stints to increase veinous drainage capacity out of MS patients brains with some success. Makes sense I think. He noted the damage tisse protecting nerves and synpases in MS were close to veins and readily damaged by proteins from the blood leaking into the tissue, due to backup from improper drainage. Makes sense because heat and exercise can trigger symptoms. Have you heard of this research?
Thanks Strayer. Yes, I do know about that research. The jury still seems to be out whether it is a cause or an effect. His initial research used a statistically insignificant number of people. People have often had significant improvement with their symptoms briefly after veins have been unblocked, but they block over again quite quickly. And people have died after having the stents put in place. Tricky.ReplyDelete
Loved this post, Elephant's Child - and loved the comments. Hope you keep on blogging in a crown.ReplyDelete
"I revel in my black sense of humour and view it as a life saver."ReplyDelete
Renee was a popular blogger who died last year after a long fight with cancer. I used to go to her site, and there would be maybe fifty responses to her latest post, most of them too drippy to bear. Think Disney and Hallmark rolled into one and multiplied by a thousand. So, I would leave the most outrageous black humor bullshit on Renee's blog, and she just loved it. God but I miss that woman. She spent hours every day going around the blogosphere giving support to people who were not nearly so bad off as herself.
Thanks Snowbrush: Glad (and sorry) to hear about Renee. Sounds like her blog would have been a rare find. Not being able to laugh is, I think, more deadly than cancer.ReplyDelete
You are...STRONG! That is what I have seen in the posts I've read. It takes a special person to realize that their own situation simply *sucks*, but that there is always someone out there who has it worse. Enjoyed learning a bit about you! Thank you for your comment on my page.ReplyDelete
Good blog: You should start many more. I love all the info provided. I will stay tuned:) makeup artist SydneyReplyDelete
makeup artist in Sydney: Why thank you. I don't quite know what to say - but thanks.ReplyDelete