As I mentioned before (see here) I'm editing a friend's (well kind of friend's ) novel and its a LOT of work and its tough!
I don't mean that his writing is poor, or he hasn't a plot or his grammar and punctuation are all over the place and I therefore spend all my time correcting these lot of work. I know if any of my lecturers were reading that I AM editing someone else's work for grammar and punctuation...they would stare at me incredulously and probably faint. Punctuation hasn't always, if at all, been my strong point. But BUT that is only where my own writing is concerned, I don't seem to have a problem recognising punctuation errors in other people's work. Probably because I'm not that great at proof reading my own work, that's to say I have an aversion to it. Tutt tutt I know.
Any way, moving on from my own failings...John's punctuation and grammar is nearly perfect and I am unbelievably jealous, of course I would be! I am not worried about his punctuation and grammar though, my main concern is that I feel like his lack of confidence and belief in himself as a writer is making him hold himself back. His writing is good but I don't see or feel enough of him in it. I can sense his excitement, his thrill at giving his imagination free rein and being led by it...but he never quite takes that final step of letting go of his control completely and giving himself over to his talent. He holds himself aloof and its really frustrating.
What seems to be the pattern is that I read a few pages, perfectly good pages plot wise, but they don't fill me with wow. Then suddenly its there! The wow factor, the thing, the prose, the style, the flesh to the bones of the characters, the humour, the empathy! Its all there and I can't turn pages quick enough. Unfortunately it doesn't last though. I think what happens is that he gets tired, quits for the day and decides to continue in the morning. The problem is with picking it up again at a later time means he has to get warmed up all over again.
I know from experience how normal this is and that not everyone is like me - obsessive to the point of losing days at a time when I'm in the zone and my creativity is flowing - but its frustrating. The more I think about it the more I struggle to know the right way to tell John this, to explain to him that there is a great deal that works in his story and for a first novel to a first time writer ...I haven't read better. BUT he needs to relax more, he needs to let go of his inhibitions and let the story - the characters - lead him on their journey. John needs to look through their eyes, feel what they feel and speak with their tongue...and then we can worry about the minor details of presentation (direct speech, punctuation, grammar etc)
How do I tell John this without bursting the fragile bubble that is his confidence? I remember how scary it was to hand over a piece of writing to another for criticism and guidance. I can still feel the lump of apprehension sitting in the pit of stomach, the cold clammy sweating of my trembling hands, the lightheaded dizziness, the hours of preoccupation as I waited for my peers reaction to what I had to say and my writing. I remember it all very well.
Well, I need to decide how I'm going to delivery my feedback to him soon, and very soon because I've finished reading it (not with making notes, I'm never finished with this), and correcting the punctuation and grammar. Plus, I can sense he is getting fidgety in anticipation of my feedback.
Any ideas people???
Friday, 25 February 2011
Wednesday, 23 February 2011
When, if at all, is it acceptable to lie?
I was talking to a friend and her teenage daughter about lying a few days ago, it was amusing to discover we all consider ourselves to be unable to lie and incapable of doing it even moderately well.
I have never been a good liar. My mum could always tell when I was hiding something from her or being less than honest. Equally she always knew that if she just stood there and gave me the look sooner or later I'd crack and EVERYTHING would come spurting out in a torrent of confession while I cried and trembled.
Its a little hard to explain but as I stood there under her intense and unwavering scrutiny the secret or lie seemed to expand inside of me, swelling and growing to proportions so big and painful that to hold and contain it inside, hurt. Eventually I'd have to let go of it and get everything out. How mum knew to do this I have no idea but it worked more or less every single time. If it did fail the simple words 'Don't. Lie. To. Me. Natasha.' uttered with menacing calmness were more than enough to scare my rebellion out of me and before I knew it I was blabbing like Chunk out of the Goonies.
What struck me most about our chat was that the general consensus seemed to be lying itself is okay providing you had a good intention behind your lie. I found myself agreeing that good intention + lie = moral justification and the reality is that I'm actually not convinced that this is the case. Surely moral ethics demand a less grey and therefore unambiguous stance on lying? When we tell children that it is wrong to lie yet do so ourselves aren't we sending mixed messages? More than this aren't we merely justifying our reluctance and aversion to telling the truth and letting ourselves off lightly? Speaking honestly is rarely easy especially if it is going to cause hurt so it does stand to reason that lying is an easier option. When I question this I'm not talking about the adult habit of perpetuating the belief in Santa or the Tooth Fairy or Disney Happy Ever Afters (I'm aware that I'm alone on the last one) but rather the whole its acceptable to lie if you're well meaning in it. I surmise that what I am really asking is 'When, if at all, is it acceptable to lie?'
Phrasing it like that makes me become self righteous and self-condemning and believe that I should be honest at all times, after all honesty is the best policy isn't it? But if I think about my Aunty L's cooking I'm not so self assured; I always thank her politely for the wonderful meal and compliment her on it. The reality though is its awful. Worse, it borders on disgusting and her portions are too small too. I don't say this though. I lie. Obviously it would be cruel and hurtful not to mention entirely ungrateful to say so, in this instance then, to protect Aunty L's feelings (and to appease my own conscious) I am almost certain that lying is the right thing to do.
To apply the - its acceptable to lie if you have someone else's best interests at heart - rule to another scenario like infidelity I find myself back in the grey area of ambiguity again. If I had been unfaithful and was truly repentant, in order to be forgiven and in turn forgive myself, I would feel a great need to confess my infidelity to my partner. Needless to say such news would be devastating and could potentially destroy our relationship. The hurt at hearing such an admision would be indescribable for any, therefore I find myself wondering if it wouldn't be better to remain silent in order to protect my partner. My silence would undeniably be self-serving to a degree, but ultimately I'd be keeping my secret to myself to prevent hurt and sadness so I'd have ethics on my side wouldn't I? Again I am not so sure or confident. Ethics and my chosen rule overlap each other in a intricate pattern akin to crochet that moves me nauseatingly between black, white and grey and back again at least a dozen times when I attempt to apply it to different scenarios.
When I am faced with needing or wanting to lie I find myself gazing off in to the distance while the following runs through my mind; I think about how hurt the other person is going to be, I think about what I can say to protect them/extricate myself from the situation, I think about how the chosen lie will escalate and become bigger and more complicated than I am able to control and lastly, I think of the energy I will expend worrying, covering things up, trying to remember what I said and to whom and...that's about the time I confess all. I realise at that precise moment that I do not have the energy to spare to spend so much of it on one transgression, I reason to myself that being human means I will have plenty more of them before I die and therefore it would be wise to pick...my moments for fabricating stories. The above might seem on the wordy side but in reality all of it happens in seconds, everything that I have mentioned flits through my mind in the space between two breaths.
My answer then to 'When, if at all, is it acceptable to lie?' is to avoid being pinned down for a definitive response and mumble something evasive such as 'When the circumstances demand it'. Clearly then this kind of reply, my own answer to this is question is not a product of strong ethics, but rather merely because I am too lazy to lie.
I have never been a good liar. My mum could always tell when I was hiding something from her or being less than honest. Equally she always knew that if she just stood there and gave me the look sooner or later I'd crack and EVERYTHING would come spurting out in a torrent of confession while I cried and trembled.
Its a little hard to explain but as I stood there under her intense and unwavering scrutiny the secret or lie seemed to expand inside of me, swelling and growing to proportions so big and painful that to hold and contain it inside, hurt. Eventually I'd have to let go of it and get everything out. How mum knew to do this I have no idea but it worked more or less every single time. If it did fail the simple words 'Don't. Lie. To. Me. Natasha.' uttered with menacing calmness were more than enough to scare my rebellion out of me and before I knew it I was blabbing like Chunk out of the Goonies.
What struck me most about our chat was that the general consensus seemed to be lying itself is okay providing you had a good intention behind your lie. I found myself agreeing that good intention + lie = moral justification and the reality is that I'm actually not convinced that this is the case. Surely moral ethics demand a less grey and therefore unambiguous stance on lying? When we tell children that it is wrong to lie yet do so ourselves aren't we sending mixed messages? More than this aren't we merely justifying our reluctance and aversion to telling the truth and letting ourselves off lightly? Speaking honestly is rarely easy especially if it is going to cause hurt so it does stand to reason that lying is an easier option. When I question this I'm not talking about the adult habit of perpetuating the belief in Santa or the Tooth Fairy or Disney Happy Ever Afters (I'm aware that I'm alone on the last one) but rather the whole its acceptable to lie if you're well meaning in it. I surmise that what I am really asking is 'When, if at all, is it acceptable to lie?'
Phrasing it like that makes me become self righteous and self-condemning and believe that I should be honest at all times, after all honesty is the best policy isn't it? But if I think about my Aunty L's cooking I'm not so self assured; I always thank her politely for the wonderful meal and compliment her on it. The reality though is its awful. Worse, it borders on disgusting and her portions are too small too. I don't say this though. I lie. Obviously it would be cruel and hurtful not to mention entirely ungrateful to say so, in this instance then, to protect Aunty L's feelings (and to appease my own conscious) I am almost certain that lying is the right thing to do.
To apply the - its acceptable to lie if you have someone else's best interests at heart - rule to another scenario like infidelity I find myself back in the grey area of ambiguity again. If I had been unfaithful and was truly repentant, in order to be forgiven and in turn forgive myself, I would feel a great need to confess my infidelity to my partner. Needless to say such news would be devastating and could potentially destroy our relationship. The hurt at hearing such an admision would be indescribable for any, therefore I find myself wondering if it wouldn't be better to remain silent in order to protect my partner. My silence would undeniably be self-serving to a degree, but ultimately I'd be keeping my secret to myself to prevent hurt and sadness so I'd have ethics on my side wouldn't I? Again I am not so sure or confident. Ethics and my chosen rule overlap each other in a intricate pattern akin to crochet that moves me nauseatingly between black, white and grey and back again at least a dozen times when I attempt to apply it to different scenarios.
When I am faced with needing or wanting to lie I find myself gazing off in to the distance while the following runs through my mind; I think about how hurt the other person is going to be, I think about what I can say to protect them/extricate myself from the situation, I think about how the chosen lie will escalate and become bigger and more complicated than I am able to control and lastly, I think of the energy I will expend worrying, covering things up, trying to remember what I said and to whom and...that's about the time I confess all. I realise at that precise moment that I do not have the energy to spare to spend so much of it on one transgression, I reason to myself that being human means I will have plenty more of them before I die and therefore it would be wise to pick...my moments for fabricating stories. The above might seem on the wordy side but in reality all of it happens in seconds, everything that I have mentioned flits through my mind in the space between two breaths.
My answer then to 'When, if at all, is it acceptable to lie?' is to avoid being pinned down for a definitive response and mumble something evasive such as 'When the circumstances demand it'. Clearly then this kind of reply, my own answer to this is question is not a product of strong ethics, but rather merely because I am too lazy to lie.
Wednesday Wonderings
Its been a slow week for my musings because I've been fairly busy; editing stories, planning weekend trips to visit family, organising volunteering...and one hundred and other things that I can't seem to think of right now.
So, getting to the point here's what has been on my mind in my more vacant moments...
If lying is, or can ever be, acceptable?
Why as soon as L goes away so does my good eating habits? I dive right into anything with loads of sugar and preservatives that I can find the first night he's away.
What people see in MacDonalds, come on people there are hundreds of better tasting burgers out there. And no I do not succumb to them when L goes away, I'd rather gouge out my eyes with a spoon then contaminate my palate with anything from there. Yuck. MacDonalds...right up there with Brad Pitt on the yuck scale.
Why the glass has to be half full or half empty? Surely half a glass is half a glass, its neither one nor the other but has the potential to be both?
How many more people I am going to see this week that strangely resemble their dogs? Seriously this has happened a lot. And its only Wednesday.
Why people have a problem with me as a 33 year old woman wearing jeans, trainers and hoodies or hooded sweat tops? I'm comfortable and I'm secure enough (mostly) in myself that I do not feel the need to go everywhere with make up on worrying that others will think I am less than perfect if I don't look immaculate. I am less than perfect and if I'm okay with that...you can be too.
Why when I'm up against a deadline do I find every task that needs doing, but isn't pressing, irresistible? Cleaning toilets, wiping out the fridge, cleaning the filter on the washing machine or the hoover...all strangely alluring when I have a deadline.
Why shoes which have practically nothing to them - like flip flops - are the one type of shoe that tears your feet to ribbons? Trainers...a little bit of rubbing on the heal, flip flops...blisters everywhere - between the toes, on the toes, on the sole of your foot, on the top of your foot!
So, getting to the point here's what has been on my mind in my more vacant moments...
If lying is, or can ever be, acceptable?
Why as soon as L goes away so does my good eating habits? I dive right into anything with loads of sugar and preservatives that I can find the first night he's away.
What people see in MacDonalds, come on people there are hundreds of better tasting burgers out there. And no I do not succumb to them when L goes away, I'd rather gouge out my eyes with a spoon then contaminate my palate with anything from there. Yuck. MacDonalds...right up there with Brad Pitt on the yuck scale.
Why the glass has to be half full or half empty? Surely half a glass is half a glass, its neither one nor the other but has the potential to be both?
How many more people I am going to see this week that strangely resemble their dogs? Seriously this has happened a lot. And its only Wednesday.
Why people have a problem with me as a 33 year old woman wearing jeans, trainers and hoodies or hooded sweat tops? I'm comfortable and I'm secure enough (mostly) in myself that I do not feel the need to go everywhere with make up on worrying that others will think I am less than perfect if I don't look immaculate. I am less than perfect and if I'm okay with that...you can be too.
Why when I'm up against a deadline do I find every task that needs doing, but isn't pressing, irresistible? Cleaning toilets, wiping out the fridge, cleaning the filter on the washing machine or the hoover...all strangely alluring when I have a deadline.
Why shoes which have practically nothing to them - like flip flops - are the one type of shoe that tears your feet to ribbons? Trainers...a little bit of rubbing on the heal, flip flops...blisters everywhere - between the toes, on the toes, on the sole of your foot, on the top of your foot!
Thursday, 17 February 2011
Random Letters
Dear Electricity Company,
While I appreciate that some 'emergency work' is legitimate and doesn't give you any warning as to when it needs to be carried out - yup the clue was in the word 'emergency' - but have ALL the power cuts we've had recently really been because of emergency work??? I'm not convinced.
Also, do you think that you could carry out this emergency work in summer when my house isn't freezing and I have a BBQ that I can use to make myself some dinner?
Your loyal customer.
Dear you-know-who,
Please stop playing the part of the victim and painting me as a bad friend to other people, we both know that is far from the truth.
Yes I am pissed, no I don't want to hear your excuses that I make you feel like I don't care - there are only so many ways that I can phrase the advice you keep asking for no matter often you ask or how you ask. The fact remains my answer will be the same regardless.
Your not so impressed and very mad friend,
Dear next door's cat,
Please yack on your own stairs and not mine. I am a little accident prone and would just like to avoid skidding on it and landing on my butt in afore mentioned yack.
Your cat-friendly neighbour,
Dear chocolate in the garage,
Please could you stop your siren like calling to me? I am on a diet - well okay not a diet so much as trying not to eat bad food - and I'm finding it extremely hard to block out your alluring singing.
I appreciate that you're feeling incredibly unloved, especially if I remember that when L was away we spent many nights tucked up in a blanket on the sofa watching bad TV together. I will never forget how many times you have been there for me; you've comforted me when I've been upset and crying, you've cheered me up when I've had a bad day at work, you've accompanied me to the cinema, you calmed me down when I was stressed during my Masters and you've sat on the sofa to watch inane TV when I've been anti-social. You've no idea just how thankful I am for every single one of those times when you were there for me...but right now we just can't be together. I'm sorry.
I promise that this is not the end of our love affair but rather just some needed time apart.
Your loving and sad best friend,
While I appreciate that some 'emergency work' is legitimate and doesn't give you any warning as to when it needs to be carried out - yup the clue was in the word 'emergency' - but have ALL the power cuts we've had recently really been because of emergency work??? I'm not convinced.
Also, do you think that you could carry out this emergency work in summer when my house isn't freezing and I have a BBQ that I can use to make myself some dinner?
Your loyal customer.
Dear you-know-who,
Please stop playing the part of the victim and painting me as a bad friend to other people, we both know that is far from the truth.
Yes I am pissed, no I don't want to hear your excuses that I make you feel like I don't care - there are only so many ways that I can phrase the advice you keep asking for no matter often you ask or how you ask. The fact remains my answer will be the same regardless.
Your not so impressed and very mad friend,
Dear next door's cat,
Please yack on your own stairs and not mine. I am a little accident prone and would just like to avoid skidding on it and landing on my butt in afore mentioned yack.
Your cat-friendly neighbour,
Dear chocolate in the garage,
Please could you stop your siren like calling to me? I am on a diet - well okay not a diet so much as trying not to eat bad food - and I'm finding it extremely hard to block out your alluring singing.
I appreciate that you're feeling incredibly unloved, especially if I remember that when L was away we spent many nights tucked up in a blanket on the sofa watching bad TV together. I will never forget how many times you have been there for me; you've comforted me when I've been upset and crying, you've cheered me up when I've had a bad day at work, you've accompanied me to the cinema, you calmed me down when I was stressed during my Masters and you've sat on the sofa to watch inane TV when I've been anti-social. You've no idea just how thankful I am for every single one of those times when you were there for me...but right now we just can't be together. I'm sorry.
I promise that this is not the end of our love affair but rather just some needed time apart.
Your loving and sad best friend,
Wednesday, 16 February 2011
Wednesday Wonderings
Hhhmm feeling a lot like I have very little patience and too much to do today I'm going to skip the wordy intro and just say these are the things I've been wondering about...
Why women like to gossip and add their own spin on things? Because they have too much time on their hands and not enough forethought, common sense, intelligence etc... if I had to guess and be nice about it Tash.
When it is going to stop raining and we can expect the weather to be a little warmer.
Where I was when Mother Nature was giving out 'muscle memory' My muscles only seem to 'remember' to hurt regardless of how much I work out and attempt to have it get used to working out.
Why L thinks it’s funny to walk through the front door and ask 'Where's my dinner?' You'd think my death stares would be enough of a clue that I don't find it funny at all and never will.
What goes on in my head to make me have the random nightmares that I do...I mean psychopath clowns, sun burn, being chased, being naked in public, being on roller coasters, drowning or tidal waves, various parts of my body being too big, being a man and a mercenary and on the run...the first one I get, they did make a film with a scary clown in it but the others...you're just weird!!
Why my future God Son goes to sleep pretty much as soon as I pick him up, am I THAT interesting or just that comfortable??
How and where you get 1/2 an egg from? I made some cookies from one of those recipes in a jar thingys and it called for 1 1/2 eggs? I'd like to see the hen that can manage that. No you wouldn't Tash, it would give you nightmares.
Why some people ask for advice i.e. what you would do in a certain situation when what they are really looking for is a very particular answer and only that answer. Surely they should just do what they want to do and have done with it? You'd think Tash, but then they'd miss the chance that you might just do whatever it is for them and save them the bother.
Why people do empty gestures and by that I mean say things like 'We should get to together for coffee' when they really don't want to get together for coffee? Not only am I big girl and can take it that they don't really want to have a coffee with me but also my tight smile and silence should be a good indication that I don't want to come either. When did lying become the epitome of social etiquette?
Tuesday, 15 February 2011
Hermits, Imaginary Friends and Same Differences
L tells me that I don't mix well with other children, which is his way of saying that I'm a little anti-social but I disagree - surprise! - I prefer to think of it as being choosy about whom I am friends with.
The other wives where we live often invite me out drinking and I make excuses; I have family down to visit (I did...once) 'I'm away that weekend visiting family' (this was also true...okay also only once!) 'I won't be here then, we're flying to the states on the ...' (insert whatever date - oo this ONE has been valid more than once!) 'I'd loved you but I have a cold' (I really did have one) ...and the excuses ran out. So last Friday I joined the ladies on a night out.
It wasn't a complete disaster but I wasn't particularly comfortable all night either. The 2 beers, 5 vodka and diet cokes and 4 shots helped to relax me a little but I still didn't feel at ease with these other women and here's why...
1. I was seriously under dressed in jeans, a black fitted shirt and tan healed boots compared to the other ladies . Everyone else wore slinky dresses, sky scrapper shoes, lots of black eyeliner and glam sparkly eyeshadow and false eyes lashes.
2. I do not have any children and so couldn't swap 'I'm so glad to be out and to have some time to myself away from the kids' stories.
3. I do not enjoy getting inebriated - yes I know the amount I drank would be beg to differ but...okay no buts. I drank too much.
And saving the best till last these will either make you laugh or pity me immensely...
4. I've spent the last 6-7 years being entirely focused on finding out what I want to be when I grow up and paving the road toward this...so I haven't had time to socialise and get drunk. I've been far too busy and far too focused. Besides, I did all the going out and getting incredibly drunk in my late teens and early twenties, so...well boring! Unless its with Trish.
5. I wasn't out with Trish so I wasn't relaxed, comfortable and therefore really just looking for the earliest and least obvious time that I could go home. Yes it really did take THAT long that I had to consume all those drinks!!
6. I like my own company. I'm happy to sit in and watch something on TV or happier still to get into a good book or to just hang out...Or doing what I refer to as working which is analysing books, characters, plots, and helping others write short stories.
Regardless of the amount that I had to drink one thing struck me about the conversations I had with these ladies...every one of them said they felt like they were struggling to find themselves, felt isolated and different to other wives/women. It was listening to them that made me realise that I'm not struggling to find myself any more, that I don't feel isolated and I'm not so different but just different enough as to be individual and happy with it.
I know to the outside world it can seem that if I were any more reclusive I'd be a hermit...or fall into the space dedicated to imaginary friends/wife...but I'm okay with that. More than being okay I'm happy with it and I wouldn't change a thing.
The other wives where we live often invite me out drinking and I make excuses; I have family down to visit (I did...once) 'I'm away that weekend visiting family' (this was also true...okay also only once!) 'I won't be here then, we're flying to the states on the ...' (insert whatever date - oo this ONE has been valid more than once!) 'I'd loved you but I have a cold' (I really did have one) ...and the excuses ran out. So last Friday I joined the ladies on a night out.
It wasn't a complete disaster but I wasn't particularly comfortable all night either. The 2 beers, 5 vodka and diet cokes and 4 shots helped to relax me a little but I still didn't feel at ease with these other women and here's why...
1. I was seriously under dressed in jeans, a black fitted shirt and tan healed boots compared to the other ladies . Everyone else wore slinky dresses, sky scrapper shoes, lots of black eyeliner and glam sparkly eyeshadow and false eyes lashes.
2. I do not have any children and so couldn't swap 'I'm so glad to be out and to have some time to myself away from the kids' stories.
3. I do not enjoy getting inebriated - yes I know the amount I drank would be beg to differ but...okay no buts. I drank too much.
And saving the best till last these will either make you laugh or pity me immensely...
4. I've spent the last 6-7 years being entirely focused on finding out what I want to be when I grow up and paving the road toward this...so I haven't had time to socialise and get drunk. I've been far too busy and far too focused. Besides, I did all the going out and getting incredibly drunk in my late teens and early twenties, so...well boring! Unless its with Trish.
5. I wasn't out with Trish so I wasn't relaxed, comfortable and therefore really just looking for the earliest and least obvious time that I could go home. Yes it really did take THAT long that I had to consume all those drinks!!
6. I like my own company. I'm happy to sit in and watch something on TV or happier still to get into a good book or to just hang out...Or doing what I refer to as working which is analysing books, characters, plots, and helping others write short stories.
Regardless of the amount that I had to drink one thing struck me about the conversations I had with these ladies...every one of them said they felt like they were struggling to find themselves, felt isolated and different to other wives/women. It was listening to them that made me realise that I'm not struggling to find myself any more, that I don't feel isolated and I'm not so different but just different enough as to be individual and happy with it.
I know to the outside world it can seem that if I were any more reclusive I'd be a hermit...or fall into the space dedicated to imaginary friends/wife...but I'm okay with that. More than being okay I'm happy with it and I wouldn't change a thing.
Thursday, 10 February 2011
Dear sense of humour,
I know this is stating the obvious but I'm going to just say it and get it over and done with...we both know we've seen some incredibly dark days over the past few years. There have been times when we laughed but without real heartfelt humour, times when we laughed to hide the tears and times when we laughed because we were at a loss as to what else to do.
In light of that I would just like to take this opportunity to thank you for staying so faithfully by my side when all else - patience, will power, motivation, libido, sleep, sense of security etc - have taken themselves off on sabbatical. You have no idea how much I appreciate you sticking around and teaming up with sarcasm to at least help a ghost of a smile grace my lips.
You truly are one in a million and I will never again think of you as dark and twisted and just a little bit sick.
Yours thankfully,
Tasha xx
ps I enjoyed this post so much I might it a regular one. Thanking inanimate objects and people for things. Hhhmmm food for thought.
In light of that I would just like to take this opportunity to thank you for staying so faithfully by my side when all else - patience, will power, motivation, libido, sleep, sense of security etc - have taken themselves off on sabbatical. You have no idea how much I appreciate you sticking around and teaming up with sarcasm to at least help a ghost of a smile grace my lips.
You truly are one in a million and I will never again think of you as dark and twisted and just a little bit sick.
Yours thankfully,
Tasha xx
ps I enjoyed this post so much I might it a regular one. Thanking inanimate objects and people for things. Hhhmmm food for thought.
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