09 November 2006

"Lately I have taken to cooking and listening to Wagner, both of which I find rather frightening"

Noel Coward said it, not me. I have not taken to either of them but I absolutely know what he is talking abt. Make yourselves comfortable, my lovelies, this will be a long one, I have been letting it brew.

A few days ago I imploded, just the tiniest bit. I predictably fled to the bookshop where my beloved English paperbacks sleep. I perused the shelves in a bit of a frantic state and finally sat down with 3, trying to decide which one to rescue take home. One of them was by some lady called something Theodore (maybe), and it was called something Shrimp. Catching Shrimp? I could google it but well, google it yourselves if you’re that interested. Anyway, I sat there smoking –

*Greek choir *
Yes, smoking, I was pissed off and exhausted and fed up with everything and decided a fag was exactly what I needed, so I bought a pack. From a fag, actually. A very non-smoking and possibly blind person who fluttered about behind the tiny counter bcs he did not know, HE DID NOT KNOW what the packs looked like and would I mind pointing to that Camel Lights thingy, terribly sorry, it’s my first day you see, oh you don’t say.
*/Greek choir*

- so there I was, sitting at the nice table and smoking my ciggie [vile], and the girl in the book said something like I didn’t really mind the fleas bcs that meant I had to take loads of flea baths, and there’s nothing like taking a bath with my clothes on. And this girl sounded mad and interesting and so I sat there, reading and snorting and thinking I could procure this girl ectoparasites to her heart’s content and suddenly realised the horrid noise was a show playing on the telly, a flamenco show. And I know many of you are ooohing and aaaahing but I’m an infidel, I can’t be bothered abt flamenco really bcs it’s like salsa, no point to it unless you can dance it, which I cannot. Plus, it’s loud, it’s so very loud, and miserable, have you ever paid attention to the lyrics? Good God the lyrics, any Portie would be able to write a minor thesis on gypsy lyrics (oh do I have a story to tell abt the gypsy riots of 2003 when 2 16 year-olds from opposing families eloped. Scary, scary night that was), it’s all abt being unhappy and poor and beaten up and occasionally (NOT made up, I listened to with these very ears) someone may be a drug addict and someone’s mother may be a whore. A bit like fado except with a pulse. Now, in this show they did something very clever, all of a sudden flamenco changed into opera. And I may not much like flamenco but opera makes my kidneys want to exit my body through my navel. I have recently pinpointed what annoys me so abt it so, it’s the yeowling, especially the women. I find people like Udge
(or my best friends for the matter) admirable, bcs they like it. They thrive on it. They willingly pay to be cat-screamed at. Jolly good. The choir in Carmina Burana? Quite lovely. All sang conversations? Those people deserve a painful and protracted death.

And then, as I lit my 2nd fag [viler], it happened, I mind-blogged it. I composed a post in my head, and not only did I do it but it was far better than this one, it was funny. And I remembered how I too used to thrive on words, my words, your words, how I couldn’t wait to read you and find out abt your lives, and I couldn’t wait to see what my life looked like in writing and through your eyes, and I knew me, I knew me. [Eu sabia-me] And that is gone now and has been since the Summer. I don’t know what happened, there wasn’t one particular thing as far as I can determine. I think I may have simply ran out of soul petrol. I have no weekends to speak of bcs there is always something to prepare or memorise and never enough time. Often I get home and crawl straight into bed w a textbook or a binder, on which I then fall asleep. Then I feel guilty bcs I feel that I am not dedicating enough time to my Jewish living, as it were, and feel guilty when I go to the synagogue or read books on Judaism bcs that’s time I’m taking away from school knowledge and there will never, ever be enough of that as it is. And I feel guilty bcs I can not only not write anymore, but I cannot read. I often want to check in on some of you but lack the energy to and don’t even know why. It’s like everyone is Paulmonster and Dale
, remember those days? I'm devolving, guys, and don’t know why this is, I miss reading you, it used to be such fun, but if I did you’d engage me, see, you’d make me feel things and I feel überfordet, in fact so much so that I forgot the stupid word in English, just a sec – it’s overwhelming, that’s what it is. I have no resources left with which to handle overwhelmingness for now. Am hoping this will go away soon bcs it’s dull, dull, dull.

Re RSS feed, I’m afraid we are not on speaking terms. I had often thought that receiving blog posts was a bit, well, rude to the bloggers. (I wasn’t aware anyone read me that way when I started thinking abt so it was pure and unbiased). Think abt it, people often devote a long time to fixing up their blogs, making them look pretty. They like to receive comments, they like to see their stats, to see who comes for a visit (am afraid my Finn has finally abandoned me). I know we are all very busy these days but are we really so busy that we do not have the time to click on a link? I will ban RSS feeds for a bit longer, while I ruminate. Old bald Helen, I hope you can beat inertia and check in once in a while, I quite liked the thought of having you and your moniker around, even if silently. And Dune, the film/book, kicks gorgeous ass, yes!

One thing has been weighing on my mind, a lot. *sigh* If I hadn’t miscarried
I would be giving birth just abt now. I still cannot quite comprehend that. I was pregnant, how… science-fictiony of me. I’d soon have a son or a daughter in my arms. Eh? One thing happened during that time that I never talked abt bcs, quite frankly, I felt stupid. There was a blogger who had a very rough infertile time (I read a lot of IF blogs, remember? Or used to anyway.) and we became blog-friendly. She’d become pregnant and (I feel like an idiot for even talking abt this) was afraid something terrible might happen, and then there were a few other things, serious things, that really scared her around that time and I used to keep her posted and try as best as I could to calm her down, to be present in a way that could be helpful. Now, I know that a blog is a very particular medium but when you became blog-friendly you don’t usually go beyind a certain leverl, and we did email and txt each other, and we sometimes even chatted – we were not close friends in the sense that either of us felt that strong connection that makes you feel you might just carry it onto real life but it was more than just blogginess, I did genuinely care abt her and was sure of her. I told her abt my miscarriage of course, and all in all I think I may have had 3 messages from her. I know we were not close friends of the sort that would have made that extra effort to meet IRL but fuck, we were blog-friends, I thought. I was so certain I could count on her. It baffled me, it hurt me, it left me feeling so incredibly stupid I could never even talk to her abt it bcs, really, what could I say? I thought you liked me better than you do? I thought you cared more than you do? Someone recently used an adjective that perfectly describes the manner in which I feel she handled my miscarriage – cavalier. I don't even think it was deliberate, I simply felt that, in the great pain olympics, I hadn’t suffered nearly enough to be worthy of the true sympathy reserved for the real sort. Whenever I think abt it I get defensive, as in: I’m sorry this was just my 1st miscarriage and not my 37th; I’m sorry I got pregnant horizontally, and even sorrier that I had fun getting pregnant - but I had back labour for 17 hours, surely that counts for something? In the end I did what I rarely do, I walked away, I simply stopped commenting. Again, what could I say? *whine*But... But... I thought you were my friend!*/whine*? Not me. Not everyhting needs to be discussed and dissected and sometimes the best thing to do is nothing at all – and that is a surprising truth for people like me. I still think abt it though, I still feel stupid when I think abt our “friendship”, and enough already. I’m hoping blogging will work its cleansing magic. I have one more such story but we’ll leave it for a sunny day.

I would like to end this on a fabulous note and say I am mad about Noors
, I am, who is so bloody brilliant and half the time doesn’t even know it. And the best bit is, she’s mad abt me too. *smooches*

PS – I left the pack of ciggies on the table, for the next poor sod. Vile!

19 furballs:

noorster said...

Oh yes I am! Mad about you, that is.
My selfish self is really hoping you've just got your groove back.
...
There are so many things in this post I could talk about, this is such an engaging post. We need to set up that IM date asap.

And by the way, your Finn, who might very well be our Finn (remember?), well I'm a little worried about him/her, because if s/he is the same Finn that I used to have, well, s/he's been gone from my blog, too. I hope s/he's OK.

And I love RSS readers, because mine makes a 'ping' sound whenever someone posts something new. I then kleek and read the whole post *on* the blog. It's all about the 'ping' sound.

Also, I have music recommendations for you, so do get your shapely bum on IM sometime.

And I love you.

LIONESS said...

"Shapely"! Oh honey...

The ping sound, ooh, I might like to have my own ping sound! Hmmm... Need to ruminate further.

I love you too.

Anonymous said...

Tried to post a comment and realized I've forgotten my password! Damn.

I'm glad to see you posting again. I've been wondering how you are. How about chatting this weekend?

Smooches from the Left Coast (flu-ridden, but smooches nonetheless),
V.

Ana said...

I missed you. I can't seem to get myself to blog either for some reason (I actually know the reason, just can't write about it).
Anyway, it's good to have you back. Really good.

brooksba said...

Do you know how much I love pulling up your site to see a new post? Do you? Your writing is always so engaging and strong - you are just brilliant. You could talk about snails and I'd be reading.

Sometimes, walking away is actually the best thing. Not always, but sometimes. And this time, it sounds right. You deserve much more.

Udge said...

{{{ lioness }}}

My sympathy, Johnny, for the hard times you're having lately. When I remember what's happened in these last awful two years,I think that you have every right and reason to feel overwhelmed. Don't think that it all has to stop right now or that you have to switch into Happy Mode at some particular point.

Be kind to yourself and if that includes smoking and not blogging, then so be it. Big hugs.

Udge said...

BTW I agree about reading blogs on the blog rather than the RSS reader, I think it's a matter of politeness to visit. And besides, I haven't seen a RSS reader that also displays the comments and allows you to add a new one.

Blogspot's feed generator software is extremely shitty, I refuse to publish the address of my feed because it annoys me so much. Half the time it scrambles the articles: first 20 words of 1st paragraph then the last 20 words of the third paragraph...

Manuela said...

Wow... just so much in the this post to digest and ruminate upon. Honestly though, I'm still so hopped-up on pure giddiness from the joy that was our just completed phone call. You are so scrumptuously adorable that I just can't STAND it. Mon Cheri chocolates?? My image of you has been changed forever.

As for your miscarriage... and would-be due date? Oh, sweet girl... my heart lies heavy for you as I think upon it anew. Screw the fucking Pain Olympics , Academy Awards... or whatever reward-driven parallel we can draw... what you went through is worthy of so much more than "It was an honour just to be nominated..." type crap which is the sort of response you got from that fellow blogger.

Pain does not merit comparison. It simply doesn't. Because there IS no winning in pain. Not very profound I know... but it's the best I've got at the mo'.

Slobbery Canucka smooches are on the wind.

Oh... one more thing. To Brooksba's point. I laughed out loud at her comment about snails... because I've always thought you could talk about purchasing a shovel and I'd be rivetted.

"Yesterday, dahlings... I bought a fucking SHOVEL!"

chuckle...

Anonymous said...

I so agree with Manuela's shovel comment.

Did you check the link you put in for Loverboy in this post? I don't think it takes us where you intended, dear.

Still meaning to call you this weekend...
V.

Diana said...

BAD Blogger!

I've been trying and trying to leave a comment and it won't let me.

I think I understand what you are saying. Blogging is wonderful for the soul and the people you 'meet' can have such an impact on your life, but there are times when you just can't face it. Can't write. Don't want to read. At least for me. And then I feel guilty on all levels, which is silly.

So, I'm glad to hear from you and if this comment doesn't go through, I'll just have to bite the bullet and e-mail you, which I haven't done in ages because I didn't want to bother you with all that is going on in your waaaaay too busy life.

Which, of course, is silly, too.

Diana said...

*gasp*

It posted.

(faints)

Serialangel said...

Hey honey.

It's all so confusing. And there's so much to think about. And I don't really know what to say to you, apart from never change, I will be as prominent for you as I can. And maybe one day I'll start blogging again myself because I can't face it myself. And don't let yourself be eaten by books - they don't know what they're doing.

Lots and lots of love and support and smiles,
Betty xxx

Anonymous said...

Is it just me, or does the photo of Loverboy you've (now successfully) linked to look like the guy from that Maroon 5 video? Hmm. I detect a certain similarity. And now that I think about it, it's kind of there in real life, too, in a funhouse mirror sort of way. Funny how that works.

Anyway, I love the photo. Please tell him that for me.

xxoo from the no-longer-flu-racked V. (Hooray!)

Kath said...

Dear Lioness, that was an amazing post. "Eu sabia-me" just went *ping* inside me (like the RSS notification, apparently). That, along with "there used to be more of me", which you wrote a long time ago, just burrowed in and made itself at home inside me, where that feeling is sooooo familiar.

I can imagine feeling overwhlelmed and out of soul petrol after these last two years. I mean, you've been working so hard and feeling so much loss and getting your tank emptied constantly, with nary a refueling stop to be found. I hope and trust your soul we one day soon be full again, my dear.

Not to come across all miscarriage-experty on you or anything, but miscarriages do tend to eat at the foundation of who you are, so it's really no wonder your feelings of depletion have been so bad since the summer. I'm so sorry that that due date is coming up. That hurts. And it's odd, isn't it, how some people can't process other people's pain at all? Even when they should know and feel that pain intimately, as well as out of a natural outcropping of affection? ("Mitgefühl" is such an apt word, don't you think?) I'm sorry about the loss of that blog friendship -- it's a loss too. The cumulative effect of loss is sadly under-reported.

Oh! And: "A bit like fado except with a pulse" just did me in. Completely.

Candace said...

I was so very happy to see your comment at my place, and I'm even happier to see you writing again. Time does heal. I don't even remember what my due date would have been. Is that because I have two already? Maybe. Does it make me a bad person? I hope not, because I can't do much about it now.

Missed you.

Lala said...

People can be so unaware sometimes...You have always been the most understanding blog friend who did not deserve to have a miscarriage. Due dates are a poison bitch. I don't have to leave a coherent post do I? I heard Panda's voice on the phone today, it was scrumptious.
Also I like you stance on feed readers, I think I will make a point to unuse it, if that's a word.

Old Bald Helen said...

(Replying to your last comment on your previous post.)

Were you the one who left that comment abt my English all that time ago on my Of Blue post?

Yes, I do remember having anonymously posted something about your writing, which (as I said then) is spectacular, breathtaking, and stunning -- all the more so, given that English is not your first language, but not because English is not your first language: You're simply an incredibly talented writer, and you would be in any language, without a doubt.

In any event, I just went back to that beautiful entry of yours to check whether it was in fact the one to which I'd appended a remark, and good lord! It's full of Dune! Don't you think that's weird and stupendously miraculous, in light of your association with my current moniker? Yeah, me too.

So...just stopping by now to once again luxuriate in your latest post and, as always, to make sure you're okay. (You're fine.)

P.S. The RSS feed is merely to alert us to the fact that you've updated your blog. Then we can rush to this page and read your entry properly, enjoy and post comments, etc. In your overflowingly spare time, set up an account at Bloglines.com and subscribe to a few frequently updated blogs. Then, see for yourself how convenient it is to be able to check only one site (Bloglines) to find out whether new blog entries await your on-site visit.

Anonymous said...

just wrote what I thought was a quite smart comment about gardens in winter...

Blogger booted me. Feh.

Love to you,

JennaM

Ed said...

Yes, I agree about using Bloglines to see that you've updated. I use Bloglines for my blogroll - it works nicely because the blogroll is in date order - most recently updated blogs at the top - and I rely on that completely for visiting blogs. So that was the reason I asked about it originally.