But writing at other places. Over at Inside a Strange Garden just now.
I know I said I wouldn’t moan again but I thought I’d get quick one in about my health. I’m basically really healthy but I’ve also been brought up by parents who thought it was bad form to complain about anything health-related. You’d have to be practically dead to get a day off school and you were treated as an embarrassment if you developed anything debilitating like meningitis (which nearly killed me but was hardly mentioned at the time, to spare me the humiliation of acknowledging I was actually ill).
Anyway, my arm’s been numb for about twelve hours and I’m thinking now that I’ve got some neurological disorder. Either that or a premature stroke brought on by Hosting-related Stress. Seriously, though, the numb arm thing has been going on for a couple of months now (somethings it is a leg). I might get it checked out, which will be a bit of a shock to my doctor, as he/she has never seen me before.
I might even consider becoming a hypochondriac. The novelty of hearing me complain about my health in the last day or so has prompted people to do helpful things like make me tea and lend me their cds (The Killers, Lady Gaga. What?). Someone even bought me a book (perhaps they want me to remember them in my will — no chance, as I’m bequeathing my entire estate to the local cat and dog home, who could put that 200 quid to good use). Anyway all the sympathy will no doubt wear off soon and people will get around to treating me like a social leper, proving that my parents were probably on the right track after all.
I’ve done a fair bit of moaning recently but NO MORE. Everything will be Sweetness & Light here, you’ll be glad to know (unless you’re fond of a good deal of misery). Just DON’T MENTION HOSTING TO ME in any shape or form. I might explain later but for now all I’ll say is that some recent business with hosting has given me a strange headache for the past three days. If I die from stress over this (entirely possible) I’ve instructed my relatives to take the appropriate action. But no more of that for now.
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Not for me particularly but just in general. It must be worse for celebrities because they are usually always falling apart, despite their fame and their riches (serve them right). A million people have said ” Life’s a BITCH and then you die” and they are all so right.
There’s always good bits in between but apart from that it’s all death and grief. So there!
Believe it or not, I’m usually known to be excessively chipper but EVEN I have moments when I’m a bit morose. Michael Jackson’s death didn’t help. I wasn’t a great big fan of his but I recognized his talents and his vulnerability. He was supposed to be around forever or at least for a good part of the next twenty- odd years. If he couldn’t be saved by the wonders of medical science then who can? All that money and he still copped it. And his money did not make him happy at all. Amazing sad.
My partner died a while back and I’m still not right. At the time I played the stiff upper lip act and that was perhaps not such a great idea. My chance to wail and whine was missed and after a month or so I was expected to keep up the act. Thinking about him is no bad thing but even a person with half a brain would know that always thinking about him in terms of his death means that I’m on a hiding to nowhere.
They say save your pity for those who are left behind but I’m all caught up in feeling sorry for the dead. At the end, did they know it was their very final moments and were they experiencing some unimaginable terror then? Who knows — anything.
Moving on. I kept the store going on my lonesome. But I’m changing things there — getting back to what it was originally meant to be about. I’m not giving in to the mainstream now and I’m not going to be stocking up on the more generic designs. So what if it’s all a little weird. Weird is us/me and so be it. Amen.
The first thing I did when I woke up this morning was put headphones on, so I got some music (Elbow) blasting in my head while I got ready for the day. Most of the time I find total silence unsettling, a kind of calm before a storm feeling — like something cataclysmic is about to happen. An earthquake, meteor hitting the Earth, nuclear attack, fasting-acting pandemic of Swine Flu, Judgement Day (convent school education).
I think it’s not just my racing brain that causes my insomnia, perhaps I just can’t stand the silence. So I was really interested to read about the White Noise Generator, which may or may not help but probably doesn’t do any harm, as far as I know — though someone is bound to get a research grant to prove that it does.
I’m getting used to Twitter now, though I’m a different person on there. I’ve been blogging for years and could talk for Scotland but so far I’m pretty subdued on Twitter. I just prefer to read and respond, rather than Tweeting very much myself. Probably not such a very bad thing though, for various reasons, including the fact that I intend to use Twitter purely as a kind of instant access window on the world. For me, it only stays sweet if I keep it free of any intentional marketing.
It seems to be common knowledge that female sex symbols from the past were more voluptuous than present day celebrities and Marilyn Monroe is often cited as a fuller figured woman who would be a bit too much on the hefty side to be considered an attractive leading lady for today’s films.
But according to Sara Buys article in the Times Online, Monroe only weighed around 8 stones and was probably nearer a size 10 than a 16 . I’m kind of disappointed to read that and the news near enough put me off dunking my doughnut (iced). It’s as if Marilyn’s went over to the other side in more ways than one. I liked the idea of her being a bit of a big girl, or at the very least a size 14. But, seemingly, she was only big where it counted — 30E bust and nice curvy hips. She’d still be considered too fat for film these days, though. Weird.