Favouritism.

Y’know what’s really great?

WordPress bring back their daily prompt and it *totally* gives you a “Get Out Of Shame Free Card” where you can start posting again and pretend that the 10 month gap since the last post was completely intended, and that you were in fact too busy in some sort of Bohemian whirl writing the next War and Peace ( except a lot shorter and actually read by people instead of just pretend-read by people ).

So consider me flouncing back all kinda arty and we’ll just exchange nods and just leave it at that, shall we? Marvellous.

So… today’s prompt was :
“You have three hundred words to justify the existence of your favourite person, place, or thing. Failure to convince will result in it vanishing without a trace. Go!”

Firstly, I don’t like being told to Go! , especially after a 10 month absence. It makes me feel like I’ve crashed a party ( which I’ve done before, but only so my best friend could mash lips with some guy she’d had an eye on for a few months. It didn’t end well. Turned out it was a guys-only party and they were all sitting watching porno in the living room when we walked in. Apparently group porno sessions for guys is ok… but with 2 girls in the room who aren’t professional lesbians it becomes kinda embarrassing. Who’da thought it? )

Secondly, the words “Failure to convince will result in it vanishing without a trace” only served to highlight the particularly wide Machiavellian streak I have. I read it as “Don’t mention a ton of stuff and it’s going to suddenly disappear…” which is a whole lot more interesting. Like a lot of folk, I have a big ugly rucksack full of baggage I could happily not mention, followed by happily not grieving at it’s sudden disappearance…and eventually happily not porno-ing at the celebratory party. In fact, so great is my hope that this is a genuine Divine offer that I’m not even going to mention it in this rambling unfocused pre-post bit.
But I do have a devious streak. Have I ever mentioned how I usually win at Monopoly? I work out exactly who needs what, bide my time…. and then pit all the other players against each other.
Me : I’d like that card please. I’ll pay the going rate for it.
Sucker : Haha! No… You give me the card I need and then I’ll give you this one.
Me : No. You give me the card I want now, or I give the card you want to Sucker #2 who is also trying to collect that row and then you’re buggered.
Sucker : You’re a horrible person. You know that don’t you?
Me : Yup. Cough up the card already.

Nobody will play Monopoly with me anymore.

Thirdly, ” justify the existence of your favorite person, place, or thing.”
Ooh, that’s harsh. It’s like saying “You can mention a KFC Bargain Bucket, but it means you’ll never have another doughnut again”. I just can’t make that sort of sacrifice. And suddenly I’m wishing I’d skipped this prompt and come back tomorrow when hopefully they’re not going to hit us with something else of “Sophie’s Choice” ramifications. And favourites ? I don’t really do favourites. Favourites imply the ability to make a decision, and I’m not sure I’m up to that much pressure.

And finally, 300 words. 300. That’ll involve counting, I’m guessing. And whilst I’ve probably waffled on way past that count already, the fact I’ll be actively having to count. every. single. word. will just bug me. It’s bugging me now and I haven’t even started.

Curse you DailyPrompt and your forced literary arithmetic!!! *shakes fist*

Anyhoo… I figure I have up to 300 words, right? It doesn’t *have* to be exact, and if you’ve made your point then it’s all well and good to just stop there and cut the excess blathering. And besides, you might be facing a particularly stressful and hectic day and a few less words to read through might be exactly what you need… so less than 300 would be more of a blessing really. A gift. Maybe not a Ferrari kinda gift, but possibly better than socks.

So here it is. Brace yourself.

After a long period of thought I have decided that the thing that I am going toΒ  justify the existence of that I would like to avoid vanishing without a trace is, in fact, panties.

It’s coming up to winter here and I don’t like chapped lips.

[ 47 words. You’re welcome. ]

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A confession.

Usually when I’m blogging I write it all down longhand, review, spellcheck, review again, type it out, review, post, review and then spend the next 2 hours looking at my site stats ( yes, I *am* that neurotic ).

This post is not going to be like that. In fact, this post is going to be unlike any other post before or to come, and I hope that after having read it it won’t put too many people off reading any further garbage I may throw at you πŸ˜‰

I have a problem. I can’t post.

It’s not like I have writer’s block, or I lack inspiration. I have loads of ideas and a little notebook full of scribbled bits waiting for internet immortality.

What I do have is *deep breath* Borderline Personality Disorder.

I’ll spare you the details of why I have it, it’s not really important, and I will stress that I have “multiple traits” as opposed to all-out BPD. Only someone who’s lived with someone with BPD will appreciate the distinction. I think it would be fair to say that BPD sufferers are hard to live with, I’m only hard to live with when I’m triggered. Otherwise I’m a bundle of light and joy πŸ˜€

Being Borderline has meant that I’m BIG on starting stuff. Insanely, passionately, obsessively keen on starting. But once it becomes a commitment we hit a brick wall. And it really is like slamming face-first into concrete. You can’t go around it, you can’t climb over it.Β  I have so much in my head that I want to do, my house is full of craft stuff stored away for when I can face actually using it, but I can’t. And I do mean that.. I can’t, rather than I won’t. It becomes a huge battle and I end up doing nothing, or worst still, I end up doing stuff I don’t want to do purely because it’s not a commitment.

I’m hoping with this post I can somehow keep this blog going, cos it’s becoming hard, but I really don’t want to drop it like I have so many other blogs before. It’s important to me that I do this, to see if I can. To show that I can. So some posts might be a lot smaller, but I hope you’ll bear with me cos knowing there are some people who actually subscribe to this nonsense is pretty important. Incredibly scary for someone with Borderline, but very important.

Thank you.

Michelle x

Pre-emptive Strike : “I don’t care, anything but flip-flops”

I seem to be struggling a bit with the suggested topics lately. It’s not that they’re unsuitable ( though every time a new one is posted I wince for those with intensely specific blogs. “Epithelial Cell Daily” might, for example, struggle with the topic “What colour shoes do you prefer, and why?” ).
It’s not that I can’t think of a suitable reply, I just can’t seem to get anything down in print.
Usually I take a notebook to bed with me once the kids are asleep, write my entry out longhand ( snuggly warm under-duvet feet and more conducive to creative expression I’ve found ), and once I’m done I jump out, type it up, then go back to bed.
Lately I’ve been getting into bed with my notebook, getting comfy, and then waking up at 3am to the sound of at least one of my cats attempting to chew through my pen of choice for the evening. This is making me grumpy, not least because my stationery supplies are being eaten.
It’s driving me nuts 😦

Hold on a sec…. it’s driving me nuts !!!!

Talk about pure luck….

I think I’ll just milk this story one more time…

Topic no. 14 “What made you decide to start a blog?”

I think I signed up for my first blog within 30 minutes of being online for the very first time. After all those years of writing away in diaries finally here was an opportunity to catalogue things that nobody else was interested in! In public, no less!

It was a marvellous and moving experience.
However, not so much so when I realised that to get people to read it I’d have to either :
a) Be interesting,
b) Write about them, or
c) Guilt trip my nearest and dearest into reading it by spamming them with links.

So I tried to write as much as I could, but unfortunately I have an underactive commitment gland and sooner or later each blog would wither and die through lack of attention and 5 or 6 months later a new blog would spring up in it’s place.
Then somehow I was in the right place at the right time and I saw about WP’s Post-A-Day challenge and I was hooked on the idea before I’d even looked at the details. Here at last was a chance to hone those skills, finally get a job writing, and retire early to my mansion in a forest of choice with my 8 cats, my jacuzzi, my jade green ferrari and my 1 lightly oiled pool attendant.

Has it worked? Well, it’s a bit early to say. But I’ll let you be the judge. Below is a direct c&p from a post I made on a long-since dead blog about 5 years ago.
A little info : Marco is my Hubby, Richard is my eldest son, Brandon is my newborn and I’m pregnant with my daughter. And before you comment about having a newborn *and* being pregnant already I shall just say this : Never ever buy a bulk load of condoms off eBay.

***********************************************************************

“I’ve lived in Holland for nearly 9 months now. Marco’s lived in this flat for approximately 7 years.

During this time I’ve occasionally popped down to the local gas station as it’s literally within spitting distance, and having spent a large majority of the time pregnant or recovering from pregnancy I’ve not felt up to trekking in the opposite direction to the local mini-mart. Marco doesn’t. He finds it morally objectionable to pay an extra 50 eurocents for a loaf when he’s perfectly capable of walking to the other side of the universe, and often does.

The problem is… milk. As a Brit, I have a genetic predisposition towards tea. I don’t feel the need to always have a cuppa on the table like some, but I’ve been known to sip the odd cup or two whilst making appreciative “ahhhh… THAT’s more like it” type noises. Marco drinks his coffee black, therefore a carton of milk often goes off in our fridge before I can finish it, and as luck would have it, I usually don’t notice until I’m absolutely gasping for some Tetleys.

Cue occasional sneakage to the garage.

This is where the “Great Milk Debate” arose because I swear that at some point I went to the garage for ice cream and saw they had milk. Marco tells me they don’t sell it. Now I know that hormones have pretty much scrambled what was left of the little intellect I had, but I’m not prone to hallucinations. I know what milk looks like. I can differentiate between different cartons. I can even tell types of milk apart… and I was willing to bet my left tit that on more than one occasion I’ve been in that shop and sitting smugly amongst the other cartons were differing cartons of FRESH milk.

Conversations often went thus :

Me : “I saw the bloody milk again!”
Marco : “They don’t sell it. They’ve never sold it. Are you sure it wasn’t that long life crap?”
Me : “No. It was fresh milk. I picked it up and had a good hard look at it! It’s that stuff we buy from the supermarket!”
[short silence]
Marco : “They don’t sell fresh milk, Babe”
Me : “Yes THEY DO !!!!!”
[brief look of “oh lord, she’s totally lost her marbles” soon to be replaced by….]
Marco : “Hold on a sec…. have you been spending a fortune at that bloody garage again?”

On Friday night Marco found himself in an emergency cake-making situation ( as you do ), and was in dire need of… yes, you’ve guessed it… milk. So off he nipped and returned 5 minutes later with a carton of the long life shite. He’d obviously decided to resolve the matter once and for all, for upon seeing me wander into the kitchen for one of my 7000 daily snacks said “I asked at the garage. They told me they’ve never sold fresh milk, it goes off too quickly”

LYING GITS!!!!

I scowled a little, Marco looked sympathetic in that way only men stuck with a woman with the IQ of a non-existent milk carton can do, and the subject was dropped.

By him that is. Me… well I don’t like to be made to look stupid… and so I bided my time…..

Today I nipped down to the garage for a couple of bread rolls for lunch… and there.. MOCKING me were 6 bastard cartons of milk, sneering at me in that chilly diary produce manner and I knew this was war. Buying one of the little sods wasn’t an option.. I needed proof. So back I went to the flat, bundled Brandon into the baby sling, forced Richard into his shoes with the promise of “I’ll buy you an ice cream……” and back we went with a camera.

Et Voila! HAH !!”

Milk!

*************************************************************************

Don’t scratch it, it just makes it worse.

“What are you looking forward to this year?” was today’s prompt.

This year is going to be my year of achievement, I’ve decided. Not the usual achievement I’m rather prone to – the achievement that occurs entirely by sheer luck. Or that other one where I mentally change all the rules half way through just to make it easier. Nope, this is going to be genuine 24 carat self-earned achievement that I shall be so overwhelmed by achieving that I casually slip it into conversation over the dinner table every night. Oh, the joy on their little faces as I bring it up for the 157th time. I can hardly wait!

So here, in no particular order, is my hastily thrown together list. It’s small, but it’s best to start off easy :

a) Blog every day for a year. I’m doing ok so far, but traditionally my crumbling point tends to be somewhere around mid-March. I think I must have 7 or 8 blogs chronicling the appalling weather in winter and not much else. To save me falling into that trap again I shall be mostly avoiding the topic. Just assume at any given point that it will be piddling down here and chances are you’d be spot on.

b)Learn Dutch to a standard whereby I can actually contribute to conversations. I’m rather fed up with standing there, grinning like a loon for 5 mins, before having to say ,”I’m sorry, what was that again?” after the usual uncomfortable pause. It’s not like I haven’t had the opportunity to learn. Hubby is Dutch, my two youngest are Dutch, my eldest can speak it pretty much fluently, and I own no less than 3 full Dutch language courses. I’ve also had plenty of incentive.

When I was pregnant with my daughter I got a rather.. intimate… infection. Had I been back in the UK I’d have popped down the Chemist, bought a pill, slapped on some cream ( though obviously I’d wait until I got home for that one ) and in no time at all I’d be able to stand at the bus stop without having to inconspicuously mince on the spot. However, I wasn’t in the UK. And if having to mime “I have vaginal thrush, could you show me where I can get cream for the itching, please?” isn’t an incentive to learn the language pretty damn quick then nothing is.

c) Do more things that I love instead of habitually putting it on the metaphorical back-burner and metaphorically forgetting about it until the smoke detector goes off ‘cos I’ve burnt a hole through the bottom and I’m metaphorically buggered. That means more film watching, more crafts, more embracing my inner child, more cat stroking, more long walks in the park,more fun!Frankly, I could pop my clogs tomorrow through something entirely unforseen like spontaneous human combustion and all I’d leave Hubby by way of remembrance would be 3 wardrobes full of fabric, buttons, wool, watercolour pencils and needle-nosed pliers. No cash, obviously, I spent that all on random craft crap off eBay.

It’s a short but do-able list. Should failure occur I shall be looking forward to spending the rest of the year attempting to deny this post ever happened… so let’s just leave it between you and me, yeah?

Warning : Eating live worms may hinder your chances at procreation. Official.

I feel truly awful for having been such a slacker with the daily blog prompts recently. I could fabricate a relatively plausible lie, but the fact is, despite being a bit busy and a little ill, I’m just excuse-making again. This is something I do on a regular basis and it’s formed a firm foundation for my life avoidance manifesto and personal procrastination-friendly lifestyle.This is just not good enough and one of the things I’m hoping to work on this year. So please forgive me if I have a few teething troubles. Getting a life can be a scary process when you’ve spent the last 40 years ducking behind a hedge whenever you see it walking down the street.

So, in an attempt to catch up I shall be answering Prompt 8 AND 9 in this entry. By sheer luck they’re very loosely related ( Maybe second cousins twice removed or something? I always found the description “twice removed”amusing. I never much liked my cousins, not even the one willing to eat live earthworms for a dare, so the thought of having them removed from my vicinity not once but twice – for added emphasis, of course – would make me smirk. On a side note, my worm-devouring cousin got married a couple of years ago after a relationship-free youth. Everyone until that point had just assumed he was gay and in the closet. I, however, knew differently. The truth was that nobody wanted to kiss him because he had worm breath. )

The prompts are : “How do you stay focused on a task or activity?” and “Describe a recent Aha! moment and what sparked it?”

The answer to the former is “I don’t” and the latter is “Aha! I probably need to do something about that… ( see answer 1 )”

I have a truly appalling attention span, I always have had. At school, despite being relatively bright, I did really badly. Or really well, considering that I slept at the back of most of my classes, if you want to look at it that way. Everyone just assumed I was lazy. Lazy! The cheek of it! I don’t like being called lazy, especially when there are so many perfectly good cop-out descriptions that are far more pleasant. Like “Domestically Challenged”. That sort of blatant disregard for my feelings will get you an instant…. well, it won’t get you an instant anything, but I will at the very least put it on my to-do list.

That’s where Prompt 2 comes in… because I really do struggle with staying focussed on anything. Not just the usual stuff everyone wants to avoid ( like cleaning the toilet ) but stuff I actually LOVE doing, like taking photos and rambling on in blogs. So last year I went to the doctors and outlined my problem. Then went to another doctor. And another. And eventually it turned out that I have a “condition” where it’s a well-known symptom to be unable to make decisions and get started on stuff. I can’t help thinking how very different my life would have been if I’d only known that 30 years ago. I might have been an achiever!

That said, my life as it stands is pretty good. Sure, it has crappy moments, but most of them I can see beforehand and manage to step round them before they mash themselves into the sole of my trainers. Life is way too short for regrets and “If onlys”. Today is as good as any day to start that new and pharmaceutically-encouraged lifestyle! One of my favourite movie quotes comes from “Vanilla Sky” and it goes “Every passing minute is another chance to turn it all around.” So why not make that minute…NOW?

OK….Now!

Erm…… Now?

Alright, some time after dinner then. Definitely.

Will not crumble for cookies.

I am a classic underachiever. My life is one very long list of things I could have done but somehow miraculously and against my God-given talents I totally failed to. In fact, I’ve elevated non-achievement to an art form. Or would have if I’d made one last effort. Which I didn’t.

Some days that really ticks me off, but on most days I wallow in a tepid pool of “Meh..” and luxuriate in the fact I never really expected me to get anything done anyway. There’s a certain comfort in having artificially lowered expectations of self, and that’s been both my best friend and my worst enemy over the years.

Sure… I could have been the world’s foremost authority on the Guatemalan Lesser Spotted Leaping Snail if I wanted to, but hey! Here’s an idea! How about NOT?? Less studying time, less effort, less sifting through snail snot. Sure, you miss out on that particular dream, but you’re An Underachiever! That’s what you do! Genius.

So, baring in mind that today’s topic is : “What’s the single most important thing you accomplished in 2010?” then this is going to be a pretty short post, yeah?

You wish πŸ˜‰

In reality I possibly accomplished something last year that I never thought I could. Something I thought would crush me beyond recognition ..didn’t.
Last year I didn’t fall to pieces.

This may not seem like that big a deal. After all, at any given time aren’t 5 billion other people holding it together just fine? Well, yes, possibly. But I’m not them, and I shouldn’t compare myself, because goals and hopes are personal. They shouldn’t start with “I want to be better than Betty next door with her infeasibly large breasts and perfect teeth…” or “I want to totally crush that annoying guy in class with his oh-so-perfect PhD in Socio-economic Parapsychology In The Middle Ages…” because when you stop competing with others and start competing with yourself you can finally move forward.

Two things happened last year.A situation with my oldest son truly broke my heart, but in respect for his privacy I won’t divulge what, and my youngest son was diagnosed with diabetes at the age of 4. I spent a lot of time back and forth to hospitals in both situations , terrified I might lose either. Most people expected me to crumble, including myself.

But instead I took one day at a time. One hard step after another. And in all honesty, I still am. Does this make me better than anyone else? No. Does this make me better? Yes. And that’s good enough for me. Or it will be when I work out some sort of biscuit-related reward system.