Chest Reduction Surgery (and a picture of me)

September 10, 2008

Jesus-fucking-Christ.

 

I am going to say this once, and make it clear: if you don’t like what I fucking write, don’t fucking read.

 

Readers, I am an honest sort of fellow these days. Perhaps a little too honest, but I would rather have that extreme than the other. Yesterday, I described what I think was aptly conveyed as a sense of being pissed off/disappointed at the events following on Sunday evening. So, last night, amongst heated email exchange, I was told to keep my mouth shut and consider other’s feelings when writing about someone.

 

Did I mention a name? Hell no. Did I force anyone to read my blog at gunpoint? Negatory. This is my blog and I’ll write about what I like, thanks. My account of you and what happened may not have put you in the best of lights, but guess what… (Is there anyone that can’t finish that sentence/guess what I’d say there?)

 

I had to get that off my chest. Sorry folks. The best part about it was the lecture I received halfway through the email exchange. Jesus… arrogance is SO unbecoming, people.

 

So aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaanyway, how are you all? Good? Happy? What do you think of the new blog design?

 

I have been trying since I started this blog to put up a picture of me so the people who didn’t know me would know who I was – I think its important to be able to put a face to the words, and hell, I’ve got nothing to hide. Anyway, I’ve been trying to upload a photo of me for my ‘about me’ section for ages, and for one reason or another, it keeps messing up, so this was me last Tuesday:

 

Yes, I took it myself, and yes, I look like a twat.

 

So, last night was the final piece of the reconnection jigsaw – that with my longest-standing friend, Daniel. He’s living with the in-laws at the moment while he waits for his house to be built – which is a TV sitcom waiting to happen (not them personally, but the premise) – so I arrived around 8 and began the night sitting with Dan, his wife, and her parents discussing fish bones, which were strewn across the table – but not in a homeless, trampy sort of way. I think they were eating salmon.

 

Anyway, we go out for a drink (unfortunately, we managed to stumble across the sort of place where you HAD to have a drink, so I had a beer)  and a game of pool – I suck – and when we spoke, I explained everything that I could about the process, what has changed in me, and where I’m going. There really is nothing more invigorating and re-energising than talking about your own change. I am in no way looking for validation, but rather, I feel my eyes light up when I mention it, and I see myself talking with a huge shit-eating grin. There was a lot to fit in – the pre-process, the process, what happened with my now ex-girlfriend Lucy, a terrible, awful lie I told, and everything else.

 

Like all the ‘masterpieces’ I have delivered – and I truly think these are all masterpieces to varying degrees – it generated a genuine, authentic two-way dialogue, and I feel much better about our friendship.

 

I did want to write about something, and I’ve sort of been putting it off – and that’s about taking time for big decisions, which follows on from a conversation I had with Dom the night before last. But, I think I’m going to save it. Maybe tomorrow.

 

I think I must be tired, because I am feeling like that should bring today’s blog to a close. This may actually be the last one ever – as we’re all going to DIE! (click on ‘die’ to find out why)

 

Hold on to your hard hats people, and until tomorrow, or whenever I get set up once I’ve been sucked into the 4th dimension by a black hole.

 

Closed Box

 

 

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5 Responses to “Chest Reduction Surgery (and a picture of me)”

  1. Neil Manchester Says:

    Hey angry man! Calm down will you- I need your blogs like an oasis in the emotional/ less desert of my life, and rely on them to be funny, uplifting and thought provoking.
    A little confession (and I did do a negative transference in this one I recall)- on the second or third night at Florence House, after having already been judge, jury and executioner in my initial assessment of you, I became really angry with things you said and did, and had to go out to cool off. Dom fortunately put me straight, and I realised it was all my problem, and nothing to do with you or what you said. Once that was accepted, I could then see you for the person you are (and I do like you).
    Anyone mouthing off about what you write in your blog is just an ‘old Neil’, with all the issues, problems and hang-ups. You are quite right, fuck’em. They don’t have to read the blog to the end if it starts to offend them.
    Just lighten it up a little from now on please…..!

  2. Neil Manchester Says:

    And another thing….

    You are quite right, the photo does make you look a bit of a twat, but you didn’t have to post it so its a brave thing to do.

  3. sulz Says:

    i have pictures of myself plastered all over… this little secret place in my blog. 😉 now, don’t go searching for it, it’s in a password-protected post! (but you could find the post without a title which allows you to have the password. 😉 )

  4. brookem Says:

    ha, i dont think the pic is bad. i only post pics of me with my head cropped out, so i mean, you dont get much sense of who i am with that. at least we’re seeing you!

  5. posteret Says:

    You do not look like a twat!
    As for people getting steamed up about what you write on your blog, it is your own space to write what you like, if they don’t like what you say they can always stop reading… Sod them.


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