Jennifer at Owl in the Rain recently wrote a post revealing some things about herself that she was afraid to tell. It was in protest at the ridiculously high benchmark of perfectly, perfect perfection that blogs with their exquisite photos of idyllic lives set for us...well, that we set for ourselves, in truth.
We are our own worst enemies. Hoisted by our own petard, as it were.
I've tried to do the same. The problem is that I'm an Australian. Self deprecation is sort of our "thing". When someone asks, "How are you today?" We answer, "Not too bad." (Actually, I never say that. It irritates me when people do. I mean, really, "too bad"? What do you mean? "Yes, I feel bad but I'm not quite a puddle on the floor yet, so I suppose I'll struggle by until the next time you ask").
Anyway, I think I've revealed a lot of my failings in these pages already. And in fact, I started this blog (in part) to chronicle my life as it is. In all its pure and uncensored warty mess.
But the cause is awesome. There should be more honesty about how messed up we are out there. We're human and don't play to a script. There are naturally things that I'd rather not tell the world, things that if I put out there might give someone else courage to be imperfect. I'm a perfect role model for imperfection:
1. Sometimes, the sound of my family eating annoys me. It's all snuffling, snorting and slurping. Actually, I suspect my tolerance for what are probably quite normal sounds is directly related to a particular time of the month. And, this really annoys me. Because it means that I am influenced by my biology and I can't stand it when "pre-menstrual" is used to diminish an aggrieved woman's complaints...wait, what day is it? Perhaps now is not the best time for us to discuss these things, or on second thought, perhaps it is the perfect time.
2. I'm afraid that people will work out I'm not as clever as they might think I am.
3. I've had enough of "playing". I spent years having to be the "Fat Controller" in my eldest son's Thomas the Tank Engine games.
4. I'm becoming a dreadful hypochondriac. As I age, weird aches, pains, sensations appear and I spend far more time focussing on them than is healthy. I convinced myself a couple of years ago that I was getting all manner of hideous diseases. I blame Google.
5. Just as Jennifer confessed, I drink too much (wine) and eat too much (cheese and bread-like things) and move too little. I was secretly pleased when I gave up alcohol while pregnant (3 times), because it proved I "could" do it and therefore perhaps wasn't an alcoholic...yet. Unfortunately the flip-side was that pregnancy gave me the perceived right to eat whatever fatty thing I felt like with impunity and I'm still paying for that.
4. I don't like that I'm constantly using "parentheses" and ellipses...but I can't seem to stop.
There. They're out. For all to see. Or at least the 2 or 3 people who read my blog.
Next post, I'm going to tell you about all the things that are wrong with the complete nameless strangers that I have to deal with daily getting to work. That will be much more fun!..............for me.
