Well I wonder

Being the philosophical loon that I am, I tend to concern myself with questions that can't possibly be answered. Sticking to this fact, I was wondering last night, what would I give up for fame and fortune?

I'm not sure what prompted me to enter this train of thought, as I was loading the washing machine at the time but, nevertheless, it sprang up. I was thinking of the movies. Or rather, the thought caused me to think of the movies. You know how in movies, the 'hero' gets the chance to see what life would be like if they'd never met their wife/girlfriend/boyfriend/significant other? And they always, always, always come to the realisation that love is better than whatever else they've been offered (fame and fortune say). I was wondering how true that would be.

Specifically, how true I would see that. I've been an unsuccessful musician for a large part of my life. I've also been an unpublished author for a good deal of it. I've been married - extremely happily - for a lot less. If I was offered fame and fortune, but would have to give up Lady Hem and always know that I gave her up, would I do it?

I can say, hand on heart, that I wouldn't. But, I can only say that, because it isn't going to happen. I know it, you know it; that's why we have movies. To imagine. But that's all it is, imagining. So I can say, hand on heart again, that no way would I give up my life with Lady Hem for riches, fame and, let's face it, pussy.

But if it was offered. If somehow, the wish was pushed into reality and I really, really, had to choose.....I'm not 100% certain that I wouldn't take the offer.

If you were offered the same, would you - could you - say no? Give up one thing you have for the unknowable?

What might have been

Lady Hem told me this rather depressing story this morning.

As anyone who has read my blog will know, Lady Hem is an ICU nurse. She told me about this patient, someone she hadn't actually looked after. He was a young Indian guy, about 25, with atrocious liver damage. He was an alcoholic but she didn't know whether he was born here, or whether he'd only been in the country for a short time. I'm guessing he'd only been here for a little while.

Why? Well, because no one came to visit him. No family anyway. A couple of his housemates came to see him once or twice and he was in ICU for several weeks. He didn't talk much, he was twenty five and NO ONE CAME TO SEE HIM.

He died last week, as astute readers will have realised already from my judicious use of 'was.' As she said, it was quite sad. One that he was an alcoholic so young and two, because he had no one. And, as she was telling me, I was thinking, 'if not for you, that would be me.' Because all my friends are her friends. I brought no one into the relationship. So we have OUR friends. But, if I wasn't married to Lady Hem, I'd also have no friends. And, if I were in the ICU, I also wouldn't have anyone come visit me. Except my dad, I guess.

I'm not entirely sure of the whole point of this post. I guess, it just goes to show that, you really don't know sometimes, how lucky you are until it's pointed out.

The GREAT Jessica Alba

I work in a female dominated workplace so, as a bit of a consequence, most of our magazines are female dominated themes. You've got your Grazia's, your Who Weekly, your Famous and even a bit of OK for the overseas reminiscences.

I happened to sit down and read one of these (purely for research purposes), mainly because it had Jessica Alba on the cover and she's all sorts of hot. As I was scrolling through the interview, I came upon a sentence that I'd read before. A sentence that always seems to relate to hot women, who are also 'actresses.'


It seems that Jessica Alba's star is shining ever brighter, because she featured in the recent 'Little Fockers.' The pointless sequel to the ever more pointless 'Fockers' franchise.


Apparently, Jessica Alba can now hold her head up high because she's in a real, successful movie. For her acting skills. I'll just say that again: her ACTING skills. Not because she's ridiculously hot and they need someone ridiculously hot to play the ridiculously hot sister (or whomever she played); it's because she's a great Thespian.


I used to read Playboy back in the day. Back when I was whacking off so much I could clearly have rivalled many Olympians in the dedication I showed. And I remember reading something similar about one of the girls featured in the magazine. I was one of the Baywatch girls; I can't remember her name. She had blond hair and black eyebrows and wasn't Pamela Anderson. She was hot though.


Anyway, she featured in the movie of the Beverly Hillbillies and they took great pains to say that her acting career was really taking off. Because she was a great ACTOR. Not because she was hot and they needed someone hot. She was the Meryl Streep of Beverly Hillbillies.


Now, you might be thinking that this all comes off a bit misogynistic and you'd be damn right. But tell me, do you really think someone like Jessica Alba gets picked to play any role because of her acting chops? I've seen her in many things and, I have to say, that woman can't act worth a damn. But God Damn she looks good in tight clothes.

The point is, stop trying to be all righteous about it. If someone is hot and they're famous, rich and popular for being hot, accept it. Don't try to make it out into something that it's not. Jessica Alba gets work because they need someone who looks good in not much. Until she's winning rave reviews for her work in an Ibsen play on Broadway, don't try to tell me she's any more than bone candy.

They walk among us

You know, I am growing more and more convinced that there is no such thing as a Sisterhood. Travelling pants or sans travelling pants notwithstanding.

Lady Hem told me yesterday that she was confronted by an ACN (whom we shall refer to as Sharon) about not doing any night duty shifts.

Now, in the very recent past, many women we know who have had babies, have suffered because they continued to do night duty. Three out of four developed pre-eclampsia and one developed HELP syndrome (you can look these up like I had to do) and gave birth to her daughter at 26 weeks. All of the babies and the women are fine now but, how much better would they have been if they hadn't had to do night duty?

It's a contentious issue, as night duty is notoriously hard to fill. Yes, there are permanent night duty staff, but not enough to cover every shift and everyone who works at ICU must do their share of night duty. We were having none of it.

Lady Hem went to her GP and got a certificate basically (but not in so many words) exempting her from night duty. She took it to her boss, a woman, who oked it. She hasn't had to do night duty since and feels amazing.

Now, this is where the problem comes in. ICU is a predominantly female dominated workplace. The boss is female, most of the ACN's are female and at least 80% of the nurses are female. Yet the bullying that goes on in that place would make a dockworker uneasy. The ACN - Sharon - whom I hate with a blinding passion, it must be said; came to Lady Hem yesterday and asked her why she was doing so many night shifts and Lady Hem was doing none. She explained the certificate and that the Big Boss had oked it but it wasn't good enough. She basically accused her of not pulling her weight and it wasn't fair on anyone else.

So, my problem? Well, where is the Sisterhood in this? Surely when someone is pregnant - regardless of how you feel about them, or about having babies - that's the time to rally around and offer support? Not the time to make someone feel guilty for looking after themselves? I know I'll cop some flak for this but, guys just wouldn't do that.

I'm saying that guys can't be bullies? Hell no, guys are awful bullies. In fact, not more than a year ago, there was a big story going around about a chef, a head waiter and the boss of a restaurant that bullied a poor girl to death. She felt so harassed that she jumped off a building. They were arrested and jailed but that is something that I find unforgivable.

However, if a workmate is in trouble, or needing to look after themselves - for whatever reason - guys will rally around and help out. Yes, I know, I'm overlooking many aspects of a guy's personality and yes, you hear about plenty of bullying and hazing rituals etc that I also think are abhorrent but, and I'll stand by this, if a male workmate working with other male workmates, needs those mates to do a little extra to help him out; it'll be done, no questions asked. Because those guys know that that guy will do the same if it comes to them.

I'm not talking friends here, I'm talking workmates. Yes, sometimes your workmates are your friends but generally, not so much. I'm also not talking a Brotherhood vs a Sisterhood, just my casual observations.

Having said that, have at me.

What's left is the crossing guard of truth

I've just gotten rid of the short description of this blog, because I've come to realise that it's a load of shit. I'm not actually sure what thoughts I've had, or am having, that can't be discarded. I'm not sure at all, why I've re-started this blog.

I'm not about to delete it. I'm not even about to finish up with it. I like having a blog. I like writing my blog and I like that a couple of people read it. And even make comments on it. What I'm not sure of, is why I need to put any of this out into the open.

I could just buy a journal and do that. It would virtually achieve the same objective; the need to write. As I've said before, I've tried to quit writing and have found it too hard to do. Yet, every day, I struggle for things to come up with; for things to write. This re-started blog is akin to a band you used to like who have gotten back together: I like you old stuff better than your new stuff.

This blog used to be good once. In my very humble opinion, it used to be very good. And it used to be easy. It got harder as the days went on but, I remember racing to one hundred posts and barely breaking a sweat. I write this blog at work, mostly, and I used to write two, sometimes three posts in a day and archive them, so I'd have something to post every day. Now, I sometimes panic when I think it's time to blog. Yes, I know I could just blog whenever I felt like it but, a blog is really a conversation, isn't it? And a one-sided conversation gets stale after a while. A blog needs life to grow. It needs updates for people to stay interested. You need to write to improve.

But does it all really matter? Would it matter if I got no more followers? Would it matter if I suddenly gained a hundred? No. Because all that matters is what I want out of it. And, the thing I think I want out of it most, is the push to keep writing.

And maybe, in the end, that's all we need our blogs for. To be forced to keep going. To have a reason improve.

To have a reason to not give up.

Friends

I'm pretty lazy with my friends. Or, should I say, our friends because - in truth - I don't have any friends of my own. I think I've written about this before. Anyway, the friends that I call 'my friends' I'm pretty lazy with. I tend to wait for them to call me, or wait until I bump into them somewhere before we 'hang out.' And by hang out, I mean have a coffee and spend ten minutes talking before I have to be somewhere else.

Sometimes - and not just sometimes - I can be a real cunt.

The point of all this is, that I've just read Beardie's post about telling your friends how you feel about them and it's brought a few things up.

My friend Donna got married a couple of weeks ago.

You might remember Donna from a post on the deleted blog. If not, she was someone I thought I might be in love with, who turned out to be a friend. Then something, and I still not sure what, happened and we stopped being friends. Sort of. I've seen her a few times here and there and we still talk and say we'll catch up, but it never happens. I'm lazy, she has a kid, I'm now working full time and, with my weekends, I really just want to hang out with Lady Hem. I know it's bad and I know it's my fault but, I just can't help it. I don't want to make the effort and, as a result, I lose friends. Yes, in an ideal world, communication would be a two way street but, in the real world, we all know that doesn't happen. Someone HAS to make the moves. You all have someone that you know you have to call, or see if you're ever going to see them and, when you do you have a great time but every time you go to pick up the phone you think, 'why the fuck do I always have to be the one?' Well, that's me.

I went to Donna's wedding. I wasn't invited. I found out about it from a mutual friend who Lady Hem sees quite often. It was down by the river, the weather was good, she looked awesome and her son was cute as hell.

I didn't stay around to say congratulations or anything. I left at the ring signing. This is what I'm like in real life. On this blog I make myself appear friendly and semi-cool but, in real life, I'm pretty much a fucking arsehole.

Still, it was a good day.