Wednesday, 17 June 2009

27 Versions of the Truth

This is an "About Me" blurb that I will link to in my sidebar. There's no way I can write it without sounding like a total wanker, but whatever.

I could write 27 "About Me's", they could all be equally true, just omitting certain parts. You know how somebody friends you on Facebook and you haven't seen them in twenty years, and they're all like, "HI! So what have you been up to all this time??"
I hate that question, and always have to think of how much of my truth to tell them. Although I was up at midnight on Facebook once and this guy from school asked me that exact thing and I just went for it and told him this freaky condensed history of me and he went strangely quiet.

So ..... here it is.


ABOUT ME.

This is me. Smiling with my mouth shut because I have a sticky-outty front tooth that I'm vain about.


I'm terrified of spiders and order their deaths on a regular basis. Born in 1972 to a violent alcoholic father who went to the pub as soon as he found out I was a girl. I have two older sisters who are identical twins, and a younger brother from another father.

I have always been a dreamer, I believe in God although I do not like that word, and put Buddha next to Jesus every Christmas in our cheesy nativity set. Heaven and hell already exist on earth, I play Mario on my son Max's DS on a regular basis, and my husband got diagnosed with Stage III B-Cell Follicular Aggressive Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma - five days before our second son was born in May 2008. He thought it was a torn stomach muscle, ended up having six months of intensive chemotherapy where all his hair fell out and I tried to pretend I didn't love him so it wouldn't hurt so much but I did and always will. He is in remission. Yesterday morning he stood in our kitchen, looked me in the eyes, and announced he will never get cancer again. I've decided to believe him.

I am a stepmother, which has sucked in the past, but now I love it. My "step"son Tim was born in 1992, and I am truly blessed to be a part of his life.

My real dad died of alcoholism in 1984, then my stepdad killed himself in 1988. I had a really shit childhood and thought that once I escaped to Sydney when I was eighteen, the world would magically become a bright and happy place. It did, but it took a lot of substances to get there. Then it was hell. Then I made a fresh start and had children and got married, and I really truly thought my life would settle down and it would be all smooth sailing, but you know, CANCER.

I did IVF to get my second son, Rocco.

I wish I had been a dancer. But I wasn't allowed.

I go to recovery meetings, which continually save my arse. I hope I don't ever think I don't need to go anymore.

I'm terrified of the dentist.

I think I'm fantastic, but also have copious amounts of self-loathing. Bono calls that "being right in the middle of a contradiction." During the 2006 U2 concert Bono held my hand. Which means that anything is possible, in this life. Anything.

Having my first son broke my heart open and all this love came streaming out and for the first time since I remembered, I didn't want to be dead anymore.

Having my second son broke my heart open and all this fear and terror came out.

Life totally sucks random arse, sometimes.

I love all three of my sons. They can teach me things every day, if I let them.

I blog because I like it. Simple as that. It's free. It's like, this teeny corner of the Universe where I made something from nothing. I have been blogging for three years .... my first blog is here. It documents my IVF process, subsequent pregnancy, and then my husbands cancer fiasco.

I'm travelling to New York in August 2010 to attend America's biggest blogging conference, BlogHer .... where I will meet some of my best friends for the first time.

I have been a writer since I was 8 and three quarters. My official website is here. I wrote the text for a childrens book which came out in 09. I'd like to write a "proper" book one day. Not sure how. Maybe it's like writing in a blog, except the posts are chapters? I'm too scared to write my biography. Last time I tried, I had a bit of a breakdown so I stopped. I have other story ideas. My husband says "Just do it, hon!" Like it's that easy.

It probably is that easy.

I need to stop plucking my chinhairs in the rear view mirror in my car, but the lighting is spectacular.

Life is too short to iron. Once, I dug the iron out from the laundry ... Max was four years old. He said, "Mummy! What IS that thing?"

I have two tattoos and want more, got my drivers license at the age of thirty, and swear way too much.

Some of my best friends live in Blogland.

I am a big psycho crazy nutball and if people knew what I really thought they would run a mile.

Hey this is fun. I could go on for HOURS. But won't.

I will probably edit this at some stage.

The End.

(Actually, it really is just the beginning. That shit's exciting.)

The testosterone gang:


My husband Dave holding Rocco who is two. Tim is 18 with his arm around an 8 year old Max. Do you have any idea how much methane I have to live with?
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