Ephemera

ephemera

Thats really all my blog is.

It would be pleasant to think that my disparate ramblings have an impact, but really they are a little spring cleaning for my head.
A way to put things into order or perspective rather than an attempt to influence other people .

Of course, the fact that people DO read my rather tortuous ramblings does mean that I'm not always as honest with myself as I ought to be.

I have always found it difficult to stand up and be counted in my personal life.
I have no problem at all in my professional one.
But then, I know where the boundaries are in that persona.
I don't require people to 'like' me so much, although there is a certain element of tat involved, its more that people need to respect my professional judgement and feel comfortable accepting [ or sometines declining ] my advice.
In my personal life though....*twiddles hair and bites lip*
In my personal life I have a deep need to fit in.
To be the same.
To be anonymous.

I'm happiest sitting back,watching, listening, smiling and once i feel secure that I'm not going to be contraversial, joining in.

The trouble is, I was born to be a showgirl.
All the time that I sit quietly I want to be running up and down, waving my knickers in the air and shouting ' look at me'.
If I go somewhere with a dancefloor I want to run on and stay there for hours.
But of course I don't.
I sit down and watch.
I see if other people take the mickey out of the dancers.
I watch how other people move.
And only when I'm sure I won't make a fool of myself will I go on.

Or if I've had a drink of course.
Then I don't care.

*thinks*

Actually, I DO care, but by that time I have the front to just laugh back at them.

I wonder sometimes where the little girl that danced and sang on stage went.

I remember always walking around doing what I wanted, not caring what other people thought.
And then a couple of things happened.
And I remember not feeling the same afterwards.
Small, silly things.

Like what ?

Like being told by a guy on a waltzer that I ought not to smile like that because it would get me into trouble.
Like falling out with one of my friends because she thought I was flirting with the guy she liked because I was smiling and chatting with him.
Like walking home from school and getting grabbed in the park .
Like having my boobs grabbed by some old guy one morning as he walked past on his way to work.

Stuff like that.

So I don't smile anymore when I walk along.
I build an invisible wall around me with big sod off invisible graffiti on it saying GET OUT OF MY FACE .
The only problem is, it keeps out the people who I'd like to let in too.

And the point of this particular blog, i hear you wonder?

None.

Just ephemera.

Whoosh and its gone.