I have a big mouth and sometimes, it gets away with me. Like today. Indulged in a little gossip and probably shouldn't have. Not someone I know really but just something I passed on. And I wish now I hadn't. It happened because I was tired and jaded with work and got carried away.
It's left a sour taste. I've apologised for running off at the mouth to the one person who cares and all is good but...I wish I hadn't said it.
It's probably my worst fault. I blame an adult lifetime of working in newsrooms where anything goes and where black humour is sometimes the only things that get you through when you come across the vile, indifferent and callous horrors that can pass for our society.
And of course, teenage years spent growing up in a bowling alley of all places where life resembled a very poorly written soap opera where restraint was a rare commodity.
It's another lesson learned for me. Censoring myself...it's a theme for today - hello Maxabella who is questioning in her insightful way our community of bloggers and where it's heading.
At the end of the day, we answer to ourselves and more often than not, we're our harshest critic.
Tuesday 29 May 2012
Monday 28 May 2012
Me
I've been spending a lot of time this year thinking things over. Thinking about what's gone before, what is ahead and also what lies beneath my surface.
I've had a life that for a time was complicated and at times frightening and out of control, when I was younger and had little choice but to accept what was happening around me and to me.
Times when I was dizzy with trying to keep on top of things.
What those times did was to make me focused - on a different life, a strong family, a steady job that meant I would always have my own money, always have control.
I began taking care of my younger brother and myself when I was 13 - cooking dinner, washing clothes, making sure we were okay. Adults were there but not reliable.
I now find myself thinking about what I want with the rest of my life, wondering about moving away from the full time work and the responsibilities I've carried for myself and others.
I've been a mother half my life, caring for others. A privilege but also a responsibility. Not a burden, but surely a weight.
What for me now? I dream of a life near the beach, walking along it every day and hearing waves crash and lulling me to sleep. I want to go back to France, and to Italy where I've never been and drink wine in the sun. I want to write my stories, not just words to enhance the company I work for. protecting and building "the brand".
I want to drink deep from life, not eke out the days.
I want to understand who I really am and find out the hidden parts of my story.
I've had a life that for a time was complicated and at times frightening and out of control, when I was younger and had little choice but to accept what was happening around me and to me.
Times when I was dizzy with trying to keep on top of things.
What those times did was to make me focused - on a different life, a strong family, a steady job that meant I would always have my own money, always have control.
I began taking care of my younger brother and myself when I was 13 - cooking dinner, washing clothes, making sure we were okay. Adults were there but not reliable.
I now find myself thinking about what I want with the rest of my life, wondering about moving away from the full time work and the responsibilities I've carried for myself and others.
I've been a mother half my life, caring for others. A privilege but also a responsibility. Not a burden, but surely a weight.
What for me now? I dream of a life near the beach, walking along it every day and hearing waves crash and lulling me to sleep. I want to go back to France, and to Italy where I've never been and drink wine in the sun. I want to write my stories, not just words to enhance the company I work for. protecting and building "the brand".
I want to drink deep from life, not eke out the days.
I want to understand who I really am and find out the hidden parts of my story.
Tuesday 22 May 2012
Black cats and voodoo dolls
I've been doing Zumba for a whole 12 weeks. This is a significant thing. I love the idea of exercise, of walking the dogs and going for a run but I'm a complete useless lump about it.
I run out of time, it's cold blah blah. But...Zumba comes to my work and I just walk out the door into the gym and there it is. And it's fun, even though I'm a bit hopeless at keeping in time and the boob pushing, hip wiggling thing is just not my strong point. But the laughter among the women in my group soothes my soul after a day of crappy work almost as much as the exercise works off my tension.
We have a teacher who was on Dancing with the Stars as a backstage trainer...sadly for her she's now Dancing with the Duds. She is just what you're imaging - dark tan, long limbs, big hair, and big smile. She'd be lovely if she wasn't quite so attractive.....
I run out of time, it's cold blah blah. But...Zumba comes to my work and I just walk out the door into the gym and there it is. And it's fun, even though I'm a bit hopeless at keeping in time and the boob pushing, hip wiggling thing is just not my strong point. But the laughter among the women in my group soothes my soul after a day of crappy work almost as much as the exercise works off my tension.
We have a teacher who was on Dancing with the Stars as a backstage trainer...sadly for her she's now Dancing with the Duds. She is just what you're imaging - dark tan, long limbs, big hair, and big smile. She'd be lovely if she wasn't quite so attractive.....
Wednesday 16 May 2012
Big girls do cry
Tonight we head to Bloss's school for an extravaganza of culinary delights in their own My Restaurant Rules event. Consequently, have only eaten a few banana lollies (fruit!) and copious coffees so I can squeeze every last bite of the three course menu in. She's highly excited and nervous, it is a full restaurant kitchen and she has loved this part of her year 10 studies.
This week we've looked at her maths blog, a clever little thing she and a mate do in maths class. It's hilarious - she set receiving her maths test marks to the theme from Chariots of Fire and had them slo-moing high fives.
This is like heaven to me after the crap year she had last year and the bullying and isolation she experienced at the hands of "friends". I remember the phone calls and the tears. When they'd arrange to meet her somewhere and not show. Lunches in the library to avoid them. The facebook updates so she knew she'd been left out. The tears that I'd cry and the anger that would rise up in me and have my itching to call mothers and scream at them. The school helped and listened and we huddled around her to help her weather the storm.
She's moved on after bravely confronting the girls and one in particular, one who had been a close friend but basically didn't like Bloss broadening her circle of friends and moving out of this one girl's controlling perimeters.
Tonight we will sit at the same table as this girl's family and it will be okay, although our friendship - reasonably close but not best mates - has altered. It's complex when friends fall out, even more so when one is being a total cow. I've wanted to hurt this girl for the pain she's caused mine but that just causes more pain. But we mumma's don't forget.
This week we've looked at her maths blog, a clever little thing she and a mate do in maths class. It's hilarious - she set receiving her maths test marks to the theme from Chariots of Fire and had them slo-moing high fives.
This is like heaven to me after the crap year she had last year and the bullying and isolation she experienced at the hands of "friends". I remember the phone calls and the tears. When they'd arrange to meet her somewhere and not show. Lunches in the library to avoid them. The facebook updates so she knew she'd been left out. The tears that I'd cry and the anger that would rise up in me and have my itching to call mothers and scream at them. The school helped and listened and we huddled around her to help her weather the storm.
She's moved on after bravely confronting the girls and one in particular, one who had been a close friend but basically didn't like Bloss broadening her circle of friends and moving out of this one girl's controlling perimeters.
Tonight we will sit at the same table as this girl's family and it will be okay, although our friendship - reasonably close but not best mates - has altered. It's complex when friends fall out, even more so when one is being a total cow. I've wanted to hurt this girl for the pain she's caused mine but that just causes more pain. But we mumma's don't forget.
Thursday 10 May 2012
The real world
I've been busy with the real world and it's taken me away from this space. Two Budgets in one week, having to decipher what they mean for those struggling to put food on the table, petrol in their cars and educate their kids. I've missed this space.
But I've been dipping in and out of the conversations swirling about what blogs mean, the word 'writer' and the weight it's given by some and what all this means to me.
I've been paid to write my whole working life, from when I started out as a wet behind the ears journalist to now when I write for a corporate organisation.
I remember first writing a story as an 8 year old when a car was stolen from our street and taken for a joyride and the police came and I pretended to be a newspaper journalist and wrote my own article about it. I was bitten and there was no going back.
I've always written for myself too, but it's been secreted away. Blogging puts it out there. Very few people know I do this because this is for me, this is my space and I'm still coming to terms with peeling away those layers.
When you're a "professional" writer, it's about removing the personal, being objective. You can't do that with your blog. I like that the blog is challenging me, I like that something I've done for a long time - and pretty well, without getting too far up myself - still holds surprises for me. I like discovering unexplored worlds within myself and being prodded by others out there to think about new things or see them in a different way. i'm not free yet of the constraints of my professional life, but I'm stretching those muscles a bit and seeing where that takes me. thanks for the push.
But I've been dipping in and out of the conversations swirling about what blogs mean, the word 'writer' and the weight it's given by some and what all this means to me.
I've been paid to write my whole working life, from when I started out as a wet behind the ears journalist to now when I write for a corporate organisation.
I remember first writing a story as an 8 year old when a car was stolen from our street and taken for a joyride and the police came and I pretended to be a newspaper journalist and wrote my own article about it. I was bitten and there was no going back.
I've always written for myself too, but it's been secreted away. Blogging puts it out there. Very few people know I do this because this is for me, this is my space and I'm still coming to terms with peeling away those layers.
When you're a "professional" writer, it's about removing the personal, being objective. You can't do that with your blog. I like that the blog is challenging me, I like that something I've done for a long time - and pretty well, without getting too far up myself - still holds surprises for me. I like discovering unexplored worlds within myself and being prodded by others out there to think about new things or see them in a different way. i'm not free yet of the constraints of my professional life, but I'm stretching those muscles a bit and seeing where that takes me. thanks for the push.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)