I feel like every time I write a blog post I say, "it's been a while", or "I'm terrible at this". So, whilst still acknowledging these two facts, I relaunch our blog for the umpteenth time and say, happy December 14th! The day everyone knows as the day Adrian II began his reign as the Catholic Pope in 867. Let's give it up for Adrian II! A memorable day it was, the food was amazing, although I wasn't a fan of the punch.
How are you my little (in size, not age) lost sister in the wilderness? How have you manage to sustain yourself without one of my bitter diatribes for you to laugh at?! Well, buckle up. As I am now a student of a particular course, I have to watch what I say and anonymise everything! But there are some things that have to be said, some things that can't be unseen and for that, I must share. May I just say that I never want to see a dead man's gluteal crease or natal cleft ever again (I wonder how many people say that in a lifetime). If you don't already know what those things are, ask a responsible parent or guardian. Oh, and try NOT staring at the box of detached feet in a lecture, that's a fun game.
As I sit here in my uncomfortable chair, I think... What can I say? Typically over the years I have mocked my pitiful attempt at dating or all of my unfortunate interactions with the opposite sex, but now I'm in an official relationship (please pipe down, I can't hear over the stunned silence) I have no material. No people to make fun of, no awkward interactions where I can unleash the chained beast that is my Sass. I kid you not, K (my boyfriend, obviously you know that but I like reminding myself that he is real), little sis and I were in the car on the way home from church and we were talking about sassiness. K said that I wasn't really sassy, just sarcastic. What happened?! Where did Sassy McSasserson go? Am I tamed so easily? Little sis put him right pretty quickly, which made me laugh as she said, "Ummm... that's where I get it from!". So proud.
I feel like this blog will give me a chance to exorcise McSass, in an attempt to become possessed again. She makes me funny. Hmm.. on another note, I think it's a really great sign that not only am I talking about being possessed by another persona, but I am also making reference to a possible multiple personality situation and she already has a name. Hooray for making strides becoming a more balanced individual. We can all laugh about this later, as we sit in the corner laugh-crying and eating our hair.
Speaking of which, Anxiety group sessions. Can we talk about that? I was sitting in a psychology lecture as my professor sat there on his sit/standing perch (why can't they just get a chair like normal people? They always perch, like a spectacle in the 'Flying Predators' hour at the zoo) telling me how ineffectual group sessions are for people with Anxiety! Well, thank goodness I was sitting down for that shocking little tidbit. Phew, I'm telling you, the revelation was real. Yet, I attended them for a month! You know when someone's looking at you, but you're not arrogant enough to admit to yourself that someone's looking at you? Well, someone was full on staring at me in the last anxiety session. I couldn't decide whether it was because I had something on my face or because I was sitting by the window, but either way, there was a little crazy unblinking thing happening so I decided to leave quickly after we finished because I didn't want to have a picture sent to Mum and Dad of me holding that day's newspaper. Rooms with no windows don't flatter my complexion at all.
I had a dream last night that I was a Vet for animals with emotional and mental health problems. I had a suicidal Turtle, a Giraffe with postnatal depression, her calf with Anorexia and an Autistic Crocodile. Perhaps I shouldn't revise psychology whilst watching the Yorkshire Vet before bed, eh? Wise words. As we are on the subject of wise words... have you given any thought to what you'll have on your headstone? I want some ideas for both yours and mine. I feel like they should be an in-joke of some description.
I feel like as I write my memoirs, the main battle doesn't come from expressing myself (first time for everything, yes I know). The battle lies in re-telling events as they actually happened and then my inner monologue which is usually a near-constant stream of sarcasm. More importantly, the real struggle lies in the grammar between the two, brackets are real. Grammar in general actually, let's be real. Why fight between punctuation flicks, lines and dots. Let the speech flow as free and as muddled as it is in my head, and how it falls, confused, from my face.
With this parting thought, I leave you decrepit and old, as it is now actually December 17th...Time travel eh? Mindblown.
Love you,
Formerly known as, McSass
