Crikey Moses
Hello world. (I can't quite do it the same way John Laws does it, but then again I wouldn't want to).
How is everybody?
Hey Yaksox how do I contact you?? Thanks for the comment, it was really nice to hear from ya. Do you miss dancing? We dont go much any more. It got a bit boring, and I got cranky at a (youngish) woman whose first name starts with J for flirting with C too much. I'm not sure if you ever noticed that.
Had a funny experience last night. I chanced upon a blog of a woman in Texas and I swear I was reading exactly what I felt about so many things! Politics, being an only child, fair-weather friends,stay at home motherhood, and the list goes on. There were so many similarities, it was captivating. I posted a couple of comments - fairly inane - sympathetic, slightly humorous, nothing offensive there. Then I started reading her archives. I was reading for maybe half an hour, maybe more then all of a sudden I am locked out, and the site is asking for a password. I was so paranoid! I thought I had offended the woman. I actually was thinking about trying to email her. But then I thought maybe I had violated some unwritten "link" law. I put a link on my site, basically as an easy way for me to read her blog in the future. I was thinking, maybe you're not meant to do that unless you ask? Please let me know anyone. So I took the link off and republished and went to bed feeling really weird.
It turns out (this is Douglas Adams' favourite connecting phrase - I love it too) that she had thought that somebody she had referred to, in not the best light, in her blog had found her. If she ever comes back to my blog, "I do not know you at all". Have never been to Texas. I was thinking about leaving another comment but then I'm also paranoid about being over-eager! I think I'll just leave it for now.... Never mind. I really liked her blog.
Do people make friends from blogs? Does it get further than just leaving inane comments occasionally? I quite enjoy reading other peoples blogs (voyeurism?), but I can never think up anything terribly interesting to write in a comment. Like everyone else, I'd probably like more comments, but I do understand the difficulty. Just say hello. Go on.
I guess it's a bit like having old-fashioned penfriends. I bet that hobby has taken a huge whooping now we are in the age of computers. It's not the same emailing back and forth. In letters you can sum up what happens in a month, and not be expected to have to write back for a few weeks. There are personal touches, handwriting, stamps. The delicious feeling of finding a letter in your mailbox. The old email in-box is just not so exciting. There is always way too much crap in there.
My day was fine. No housework tonight, have just played netball. Have had our arses kicked as per normal. A good game though. A couple of our regulars are away on holidays. One of the fellows is such SUCH a bad sport. Has been thrown off the court a few times for mouthing off at the umpire. It's just too embarrassing. I just want to play the silly game, not be embarrassed by someone I dont know and to be "linked" to that person.
Anyway, without this regular guy away, it was great to actually play the game and just accept the umpire's rulings, whether they were bad decisions or not. The umps are always going to make mistakes, but usually they penalize both sides incorrectly, so it usually evens out in the end.
NEW TOPIC
The media are calling the London bombing incident "London 7/7". That shits me to tears mostly cause it's my birthday. I guess the many people who have their birthdays on Sept 11 have more grievances than I ever will. I cannot understand the huge over-emphasis of remembering something by its date and morbidly reliving the whole thing on the anniversary every year.
A few months ago I happened upon Rosie O'Donnell's blog for the first (and last) time. It was the anniversary of her mother's death on St Pat's day and she referred to it as "dead mommy's day". Basically she intoned that her whole life shut down on this day and it took her all her might to get through it every year. I just dont understand that. I have a "dead mommy's day",I remember the date (it also makes me remember my friends birthday which is also on that date) and I certainly think about mum, but it is not debilitating. My mum died in her sleep when I was 14. It was overwhelmingly traumatic, then (and still now), but I dont dedicate a sad day to her memory. I use all my will and might to think about great times. I still miss her dreadfully, even though I have been alive a lot longer without her in my life than with her. I remember her birthday and Christmas and on my birthday I think about her a lot. I refuse to commemorate the day she died. That day does not mean anything.
I've only been to her grave three or four times. Visiting a grave doesn't really mean anything to me. It's not her, the essence of who she was.
Hmmm. This has got me thinking. Maybe I haven't been to her grave that much because I was appalled at the headstone my father picked for her. Completely unsentimental and plain, so typical of my common-sense father. That really shouldn't matter at all. Hey but it does. I have just discovered something about myself. Inner psychology unravelling blog-style. If I ever have a lot of money, I'm definitely going to change it. Would that make me visit more often? I dont know. Probably not. Weird. Would I be doing it for her? For her memory? For other people perusing in the cemetery? I can't work it out.
How is everybody?
Hey Yaksox how do I contact you?? Thanks for the comment, it was really nice to hear from ya. Do you miss dancing? We dont go much any more. It got a bit boring, and I got cranky at a (youngish) woman whose first name starts with J for flirting with C too much. I'm not sure if you ever noticed that.
Had a funny experience last night. I chanced upon a blog of a woman in Texas and I swear I was reading exactly what I felt about so many things! Politics, being an only child, fair-weather friends,stay at home motherhood, and the list goes on. There were so many similarities, it was captivating. I posted a couple of comments - fairly inane - sympathetic, slightly humorous, nothing offensive there. Then I started reading her archives. I was reading for maybe half an hour, maybe more then all of a sudden I am locked out, and the site is asking for a password. I was so paranoid! I thought I had offended the woman. I actually was thinking about trying to email her. But then I thought maybe I had violated some unwritten "link" law. I put a link on my site, basically as an easy way for me to read her blog in the future. I was thinking, maybe you're not meant to do that unless you ask? Please let me know anyone. So I took the link off and republished and went to bed feeling really weird.
It turns out (this is Douglas Adams' favourite connecting phrase - I love it too) that she had thought that somebody she had referred to, in not the best light, in her blog had found her. If she ever comes back to my blog, "I do not know you at all". Have never been to Texas. I was thinking about leaving another comment but then I'm also paranoid about being over-eager! I think I'll just leave it for now.... Never mind. I really liked her blog.
Do people make friends from blogs? Does it get further than just leaving inane comments occasionally? I quite enjoy reading other peoples blogs (voyeurism?), but I can never think up anything terribly interesting to write in a comment. Like everyone else, I'd probably like more comments, but I do understand the difficulty. Just say hello. Go on.
I guess it's a bit like having old-fashioned penfriends. I bet that hobby has taken a huge whooping now we are in the age of computers. It's not the same emailing back and forth. In letters you can sum up what happens in a month, and not be expected to have to write back for a few weeks. There are personal touches, handwriting, stamps. The delicious feeling of finding a letter in your mailbox. The old email in-box is just not so exciting. There is always way too much crap in there.
My day was fine. No housework tonight, have just played netball. Have had our arses kicked as per normal. A good game though. A couple of our regulars are away on holidays. One of the fellows is such SUCH a bad sport. Has been thrown off the court a few times for mouthing off at the umpire. It's just too embarrassing. I just want to play the silly game, not be embarrassed by someone I dont know and to be "linked" to that person.
Anyway, without this regular guy away, it was great to actually play the game and just accept the umpire's rulings, whether they were bad decisions or not. The umps are always going to make mistakes, but usually they penalize both sides incorrectly, so it usually evens out in the end.
NEW TOPIC
The media are calling the London bombing incident "London 7/7". That shits me to tears mostly cause it's my birthday. I guess the many people who have their birthdays on Sept 11 have more grievances than I ever will. I cannot understand the huge over-emphasis of remembering something by its date and morbidly reliving the whole thing on the anniversary every year.
A few months ago I happened upon Rosie O'Donnell's blog for the first (and last) time. It was the anniversary of her mother's death on St Pat's day and she referred to it as "dead mommy's day". Basically she intoned that her whole life shut down on this day and it took her all her might to get through it every year. I just dont understand that. I have a "dead mommy's day",I remember the date (it also makes me remember my friends birthday which is also on that date) and I certainly think about mum, but it is not debilitating. My mum died in her sleep when I was 14. It was overwhelmingly traumatic, then (and still now), but I dont dedicate a sad day to her memory. I use all my will and might to think about great times. I still miss her dreadfully, even though I have been alive a lot longer without her in my life than with her. I remember her birthday and Christmas and on my birthday I think about her a lot. I refuse to commemorate the day she died. That day does not mean anything.
I've only been to her grave three or four times. Visiting a grave doesn't really mean anything to me. It's not her, the essence of who she was.
Hmmm. This has got me thinking. Maybe I haven't been to her grave that much because I was appalled at the headstone my father picked for her. Completely unsentimental and plain, so typical of my common-sense father. That really shouldn't matter at all. Hey but it does. I have just discovered something about myself. Inner psychology unravelling blog-style. If I ever have a lot of money, I'm definitely going to change it. Would that make me visit more often? I dont know. Probably not. Weird. Would I be doing it for her? For her memory? For other people perusing in the cemetery? I can't work it out.
posted by Cathy at 3:16 pm
1 Comments:
Hi again. My email is yaksox@gmail.com
Linking to people's sites without asking is fine - that's what the internet is all about.
I can identify a little with your last topic. It's a fairly different story because my dad died about three years ago - and was sick. Occasionally I feel a little bit bad because I can't remember the date and sometimes even if it was three years or ... ? But like you say that's not how I remember him -- although I do remember the moment of his passing because I was right there, but also just other random memories of knowing him in his healthier younger days.
ps. one the internet I am known as, "yak sox" ;) this is partly so the people at my work don't track my writings down.
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