Thursday, 24 February 2011

Pointless Post In Which I Am Lame (and a picture of Baby A.B)

(This is pretty much the face everyone pulls around me, all.the.time.)

So today I discovered (read: saw on the side of The Bloggess' blog) an awesome guy called Josh Weed who is basically the blogger I wish I was, but mormon and with a penis and with three kids (my vagina just couldn't handle that shit.) I clicked on his link at about 9pm and it's now 00:50 and I have been reading almost solidly (except breaks to take a pregnancy test and make some cheese and crackers and eat a lump of danish blue cheese crackerless BECAUSE I'M FUCKING FEARLESS) and I have laughed more times than I can count. I could say a bunch of shit about Josh, like that he's witty, and sensitive, and shows a surprising amount of insight into the life of his wife (known as Wife) and a touching appreciation for what she does for him and her role in their family and in society. I could say that I think if I could ever persuade Mr A to go to counselling, he's the kind of person I'd want to explain my marital problems to. I could say a lot of shit, but instead I'll say this:
He is crazy in a way that I seriously appreciate and twisted and dark in a way that had me cackling.
If that's not a first rate endorsement, I don't know what is.

Anyway, in an example of how fucking convoluted and ridiculous my life is, about a million months ago (November) Josh wrote a post about The NeverEnding Story (if you have never seen TNS you are not old enough to operate the Internet. Please go crawl back into your crib and stop making me feel so fucking old) and it reminded me that for a brief, shining moment in my pregnancy, I was all 'LETS CALL THE BABY ATREYU!' and my husband was totes scared of me because I kept waking him up in the dead of night by slowly twisting my thumbs into his back and screeching "I just can't stand the way you breathe!" so he didn't immediately voice extremely loud objections and question my sanity, which I totally took as a green light. Little baby Atreyu B.J was going to be awesome.
So tonight I was thinking back, and then I started wondering about all the people little Atreyu went to school with, who would think we actually named Atreyu after the band, Atreyu (which they knew of as some weird oldies music their clearly awesome parents listen to) and then I had this insane urge to listen to some Atreyu, so I paused Snakes On a Plane and youtubed me some Atreyu, and it was while listening to 'Lipgloss and Black' that I remembered how fitting this song used to be to my life, and realised with sadness how fitting it still is.

For those of you with less than perfect hearing, or who just don't speak metalcore, I've included some of the lyrics (without the endless repetitions)

If I gave you pretty enough words
Could you paint a picture of us that works
With emphasis on function rather than design
Aren't you tired?
cause I will carry you
On a broken back and blown out knees
I have been where you are for a while

Aren't you tired of being weak?
Such rage that you could scream
All the stars right out of the sky
And destroy the prettiest starry night
Every evening that I die

I am exhumed just a little less human and lot more bitter and cold

After all these images of pain
Have cut right through you
I will kiss every scar and weep
You are not alone
Then I'll show you that place,
in my chest where my heart,
still tries to beat;
It still tries to beat

Aren't you tired of being weak?
Such rage that you could scream
All the stars right out of the sky
And destroy the prettiest starry night
Every evening that I die

Live, Love, Burn, Die

I spent my teen years writing poetry, trying to communicate what people clearly weren't hearing in my much more eloquent habits of casual sex and black-out drinking, and in four years I never wrote something that expressed what I was trying to say like this song does. I wrote some dark shit and it still kind of flummoxes me to this day that no one took me aside and went "Listen, I've read some of your poetry and truth be told, I think you're a little disturbed." I boyfriends were reading this stuff, and what I was saying by writing it was 'Please, please, I am so fucking damaged that I can't even tell you how damaged I am, please tell me you see it so that some of this pressure building up in here can release.' I still know some of my ex-boyfriends now, and I kind of want to shake them and ask them if they realised at the time just what they were dealing with. Mr A was one of the only boyfriends ever who has never read anything I've written, and I'm sure that's a coincidence, but sometimes I wonder.

More to come soon, on such diverse subjects as holidays, moving house, cleaning, and breastfeeding.
Actually, those aren't that diverse at all. They're all boring and mundane and domestic. Oh Josh, you had me pegged.


  1. You have no idea how much I want to meet you. No idea. Really.

    Will come back and listen to the song in the morning, dark and twisted, oooooh boy yes. Heh.

  2. Look at that cute, sweepy wittle baby!! My ovaries just exploded, btdubs.

    That song is so deep and sad. I hate that you're going through such a rough patch lately. I wish I could do something to help. :(

  3. Whoa. No kidding, this is one of the nicest things I've ever read. Consider yourself followed. And a half. And also, thanks for validating my entire existence? For reals, stumbling upon this post was a really, really pleasant surprise. You rock. And I could not be more in love with the fact that you considered naming your child Atreyu.

  4. Josh: Whoa right back at you! Admit it, you totally got here by vanity googling, didn't you?
    Thanks for the follow, although I fear you may have to fit asteriks over your eyes to block out the swearing. I have a dirty dirty sailor mouth.
    Thanks for validating my position in society. It was really nice to read your post about Wife and see that there are men out there who Get It.