Here is a bit about moi.
For a start, I can’t speak French. Mainly because when I was studying it in year eight, my teacher banned me from the class for using my exam paper to protest the French nuclear testing in Mururoa Atoll. For example, when the exam paper asked Jenny a les cheveux blonds. What colour hair does Jenny have? I answered Jenny has blonde hair, unlike the thousands of people suffering from radiation poisoning who have no hair at all.
This apparently made the French teacher cry, so I was banished to a desk near the headmaster’s office where I had to sit for two hours each week with nothing but photocopied notes about French to keep me company. Needless to say, I am no longer au fait with all things French. Not that I ever was.
Other things I was not au fait with were having a stable, happy childhood and not having an impulsive urge to self-destruct. I was raised by my paternal grandparents from a very young age, with my parents entering my life intermittently and causing just enough shit to make me regularly want to leap in front of a train. The effects of this parenting arrangement on my personality range from the very good to the very bad, but I do think the positives outweigh the negatives. Just.
Fortunately these things are in the past, although the shadow of living with them for so long still casts a cloud over my approach to life…hence the need to unload all of those experiences, by writing them and sharing them, in a way to shed them from my mind.
Many of the things I share in this blog may be unknown to even my closest friends, but I feel that the risk of exposing my failings is outweighed by the relief it will bring me to be free of the baggage. This airing of dirty laundry is really intended to clean away some of the stains that have amassed over the years. Because let’s face it – you can get pretty damn dirty when you’re out burning bridges