Holy Mackerel! Nearly 2 whole years since the last post. Best write something before I forget how to spell. Best write this to get me in the mood and in proper form for replying to the many letters I have yet to respond to, even though I received some in March.
Ok, so I have a friend, and if I had to describe his entire personality in one sentence, I think I may have to reuse a sentence I once used in a letter. "He dances like a baby deer." I think that may be the most apt description for him. Or, polite and chivalrous to a fault. The fault being that it makes those in his immediate vicinity want to hit him around the head with something heavy. Without turning this entry into a mile long rant about how I'm capable of putting petrol in my own car, despite the fact I am wearing a skirt, thankyou very much, there are a few words to be said on the matter I believe. I am no feminist, really, I am not. At least, not a militant one who feels the need to shun all male-related ideas, I'm perfectly happy to wash dishes, cook a meal and clean a bathroom (but probably not as a full time, unpaid job, for someone who will not return the favour). And chivalry is sweet and all, but only in a mildly influential way. By which I mean, in the sense that it has an influence on a person to act with civility to their fellow human beings, you can hold a door open for me, as long as you are positioned to and you don't have to do an awkward dance to shove in front of me so that you can open a door. I will return the favour, I shall hold a door open for you if I go through it first and you are close behind, or if you are carrying heavy things. civility. Its maybe taking it too far, to insist on paying for everything.... when you are JUST FRIENDS. Or watching me park my car in my garage, which I do every day, to make sure I get on alright. not civility. not chivalry either. just demeaning and a bit rude. I may have breasts, but I still rather like the idea of an equal and respectful friendship.
And the baby deer comment? He's indecisive out of politeness. I kid you not. I does make him look like he's about to fall over, and just sit on the floor while someone decides whether he should stand up or just sit there and die for him. Much as I love him (like a brother) despite what everyone seems to think, if I'm in close quarters with him for too long (ie more than 12 hours over a week long period) I will have to kill him. I'll do it humanely of course, something swift, efficient and painless. But it will happen.
Anyway, apart from that.
Toadie has moved off into her majesty's forces. The army has had a lanky new recruit for 9 weeks now. He's loving it, and seems to be top in his class for everything. All I can say is, if that is true, thank god we've got the Navy. Kidding, baby brother has always been shockingly good at the tough man, smashy, runny, shooty things. I can fully believe he's a marksman on the shooting range, I've seen him shoot, I'm very jealous of his abilities (though, would it be awfully wrong to remark that mine aren't that bad either, I'm just not as practised as him). And I have no problem believing he had the time of his life, in a whole in the middle of a field for a week, I've seen his room. And I still don't miss him. Since I moved back home, its not as if we have been in each other's faces, I was studying and working, and he was out, so we were never really around each other long enough to hate each other, or to lean on each other too much. With everything that has happened over the past year, we still haven't leaned on each other, we put the burden on our friends mostly, which in a way I believe was the right thing to do, because we would both have dragged each other down if we only had each other, but it we were still there for each other and i came to realise something. We get each other. I may not always agree with him or his actions, but I understand him ( well, as much as I'll ever understand anyone). We can have whole conversations leaving out huge chunks of detail or emotions, but that's alright, because we already know what those chunks are, and we're too well brought up in an emotionally dysfunctional family to share squishy feeling stuff.
But I don't miss him, I know he's there, somewhere down south, having the time of his life (jammy sod). I know he'll be back in 5 weeks, and I'll get a whole 2-3 weeks with him (when he's not partying with his mates or finding easy derby girls to play with) while parents are away, and however long when they get back, and that is plenty for me. I don't miss him, but I do love him. I know I'll be devastated if anything were to happen to him, it'll feel like I've lost a limb, or a vital organ. But there is the fact of life. Things happen, even if he hadn't have chosen a career that increases the chances.
And on that maudlin note, let's move on. Those lying doctors were right afterall, exercise does help straighten out mood deficiencies. Bastards! But there you go. I made the decision 7 months ago to get fit, a decision I have stuck to, and am very proud of myself for. I can now run over 3 miles without a problem, and can go further when I really try. Go me. but 7 months and sticking to the decision like glue? Not me at all, so I think I'm more proud of that than anything else. Admittedly, its not the solution to all of life's problems, but it certainly helps deal with the frustrations life can inflict. And my thighs certainly appreciate the decision, because let's face it, less jiggle can be more fun. Though I've found I care less about my appearance now that I've worked so hard to improve it, not that I've turned into a bag lady or anything, but since I know I've put the effort in and that improvements have been made, maybe the body hangups are fading so I can just be happy with the way I look and just get on with it. Don't get me wrong, I still look in the mirror, a lot, and say "lord almighty, how do I get rid of this bit, and why is that hanging over there, and why can't I wear a mini skirt", but it happens less. As do the duvet days, I can face the world a bit more often, and hid from it for shorter periods of time.
So i have in fact gotten more boring. Didn't think that was possible, but Voila. But i'd still like to write about something. Anything. Any ideas. I could write about the makeup I wear each day, but a) I'm not a make up artist, b) I have about three looks with only variation on heaviness, and c) cliche! I could review the crap movies I watch, but a) I watch less stuff these days, and b) cliche!. Books? maybe, I've read about 10 in the last 2 months, not exaggerating. maybe I'll give that a try.
I could write about my family life, but then I should've started that last year, rather than having to have a big long retrospective and then carry on with it now everything has died down. I may do that, though would need something to stop it becoming a blog about me. I wouldn't even read that.
Though I may have to vent it sooner or later, now that I can without crying and freaking out. I was about to write noone died, but one did, my Uncle, very tragic. Very tragic end to a very tragic life. But harsh though it seems, he had disconnected himself so far from our lives, that I've met him twice since I was 3, and though I'm sad, I can't bring myself to be inconsolable.
And I guess in a sense it feels as if my dad has died. He hasn't. he had an affair with a women from work, it had been going on for over 3 years, and we found out this time last year, and now that I can think back and try and reassess how I felt, I realise, it felt as though he had died. The man I thought I knew was dead and in his place stood this strange man, who did these strange things. That's why, at the time I couldn't tell you how I felt, both angry, sad, whatever. And of course, mother darling managed to turn the whole thing into a whirling hurricane of emotional pain. I realise how insensitive that sounds, but there is no way of explaining it fully without an in depth knowledge of my family. But it settled, to a degree.
I knew that at the anniversary it was going to be difficult all round. I just didn't realise I'd have this much trouble with my own feelings. being inexplicable grouchy (until I realised the explanation) is one manifestation. I just hope I don't lose it all together. I think that may be why I am revisiting this blog. To help get through this period in time, when work is scarce and family trauma is rife. I shall find occupation, and it shall fix all.
I have run out of things to say at this moment, as I have been typing for over 2 hours. So I shall sign off, and perhaps forage for food.
oh, by the way, I baked my dad a birthday cake this morning. I tasted alright, despite the fact that nothing seemed to go too right. The cake didn't rise, and I put a little bit too much milk in the butter icing, then drop a glace cherry (whole, because though I knew I had to cut it in half, I figured I gone off mark with everything else I may as well, and I couldn't be bothered to slice them) onto a letter of my dad's name which I had rather beautifully iced on top of my rather flat cake. but it tasted fine, and he's eaten most of it on his lonesome, so it must've been good, since he will rarely eat anything I cook, and will never say if he likes it.
All my love
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