Another day in Paradise, people. Honestly, we are so lucky it’s practically offensive. What is it about salt water that is so restorative and relaxing? I just love the feel of it on my skin. Beautiful. So… before I head back into the office for another day of violence (I’m currently in the sunroom with the bi-folds leading out to the courtyard pushed right across, listening to the Currawongs while staring out at the Norfolk pines, listening to the ocean…), I thought I’d try and fulfil my Honest Scrap Award obligations (thanks again to Graddikins for deeming DoctorDi worthy of such an honour!).
I’ve just reread Grad’s take on the matter, and I will apologise in advance for any duplication from that ‘Mean Jeff Meme’ and a past award. I really don’t think I’ve left out too many details over the years of maintaining DoctorDi, but I’ll do my best to tell you 10 things I hopefully haven’t mentioned before.
- I have dark brown eyes. Oddly, the very outer limit of my iris is a fine line of bright blue.
- I’ve always been perfectly happy with my modest endowment in the chest department. I’d go so far as to say I’ve never seen myself as a cleavage kind of girl – I’ve always imagined I’d actually look ridiculous with massive cans, and that they wouldn’t suit my appearance nor my personality at all. So, as I said to Shuckin’ Charlotte last week, it’s really quite strange to see one of the early signs of the Baby J Project is a definite growth spurt in this area. So far it’s like playing dress-ups with someone else’s boobs.
- I have something of a chair fetish. I think a chair can be a work of art, and we have mismatched chairs we’ve collected over the years from all over the place. My favourite is what we call the saddle chair, a very cool piece of furniture that we found down the south coast in 2008. I love this chair, and can happily look at it for hours. It is a perfect marriage between form and function.
- I cannot abide bad manners. Rude people incense me.
- I was unnaturally excited when my friend B sent around a left brain/right brain dominance test (you watch a girl slowly turning either clockwise or anticlockwise, depending on which side of your brain rules the roost, and if I can find it I’llattach it here because it’s fascinating. Found it!) only to find my girl clearly went both ways, which was supposedly the optimum result, and which from memory no one else on the email trail experienced. B kept doggedly redoing the exercise to no avail; I kept obsessively making sure my own girl didn’t suddenly start moving in only one direction. It’s embarrassing admitting this, but I was soooo happy that she kept switching directions. It was absolutely mesmerising, mainly because of how pleased I was with myself. What did I learn? I am incredibly vain, not incredibly smart.
- My favourite building material is sandstone.
- I quite often dream about dolphins and whales. In fact, I dreamt about an enormous whale last night. But I also had a bad dream later in the night involving miscarriage and a very scary witch that Llew said made me cry out loud.
- If I were going to learn another language, it would probably be Italian, and one day I hope to live for a time in the great ancient city of Rome.
- When we started fertility treatment last year, I started writing down names I like in the back of my IVF diary. One list is much longer than the other.
- I’m afraid I have to end on a bum note, because I started this year shamefully, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. In fact, I know I’ll never forget it. We were partying in our courtyard in the early hours of New Year’s Day with some stayers from our group night out, when I realised there was a woman sitting crouched on the other side of the wall. I engaged her in conversation; I was drunk, but something about her was definitely off. She was cagey and quite incoherent. I asked if she needed anything, help, or money, or for me to phone the police, but she said no to each of these options. Then our neighbour came home and ordered her to move on. I persuaded him that she wasn’t doing any harm and to just forget it, but at some point I looked over the wall and she was gone. Eventually the after-party wound down and we went to bed. We got up at about midday to prepare for a fresh onslaught of guests: for some unknown reason we thought it would be a sensible idea to throw a New Year’s Day BBQ (with an army of small children). When Llew opened our front door, the woman was asleep up against it, her pile of things sitting in the communal entrance. I panicked: there was an apparently homeless woman sprawled across the entrance to our apartment, and people were about to arrive. When Llew came in and asked me what we should do, I said tartly – tired, horrifically hungover, frantically trying to get the place ready – “Well, she can’t stay here.” That absolute and damning lack of charity will haunt me for the rest of my life. I didn’t even ask if she needed something to eat or drink. I can scarcely believe I was so cold and selfish – it just fills me with shame every time I think about it, which is often. Llew took charge of the situation while I took charge of the house; he called a bunch of shelters and call centres looking for somewhere for her to go. There was nothing anywhere near here. Finally he found somewhere on the other side of town, but when he went outside to talk to her about helping to get her there, she was gone, and we never saw her again. For me, this experience represents a painful failure of my humanity. I know it will guide me in future, but it was a terrible, haunting lesson to learn. It’s easy to think of yourself as a good person, right up until the moment you fail to actually be one.
Now I’m supposed to nominate 10 blogs (and there’s bound to be a lot of duplication here…). My nominees are (in alphabetical order):
Charlotte of the Burg at Charlotte’s Web
David at Quotidian Viscissitudes
Grad at The Curious Reader
Lilian at A Novelist’s Mind
Litlove at Tales from the Reading Room
Pete at Couchtrip
Piereth at Castle Green Days
Shuckin’ Charlotte at How to Shuck an Oyster
Simonne at Into the Quiet
Woo at Curiouser and Curiouser
Happy blogging, and long may it continue.